


love and a cough

by The Byger (Byacolate)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Always-a-girl!Stiles, Childhood Friends, Cunnilingus, F/M, Girl!Stiles, Kid Fic, Mates, Mild Gore, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pregnancy, Scent Marking, Scenting, Sex Toys, UST, coffee shop AU, dweebish dirty talk, eventual kid fic, food-based innuendos, middle school humor, technically a sneaky hour of underage hanky panky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/The%20Byger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe if he could convince his dick that she hadn’t been flirting, that she was just being Stiles, it would help. Or it could make it worse.</p>
<p>This was Derek’s life. Of course it was only going to make it worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As it has been said:  
> Love and a cough  
> cannot be concealed.  
> Even a small cough.  
> Even a small love.  
> \- Anne Sexton

Derek doesn’t know whether it speaks to his character or hers when the first thing he thinks when she walks into the shop is that he’d know that mouth anywhere. He could hear her over the sound of the steamed milk frothing, over the mundane chatter of everyone else in the cafe, over Laura shouting something to Peter in the back room. The frothy milk spluttered and shot out of the machine, daring him to even _try_ to drag his attention from it, just waiting for its opportunity to scald his hands for the third time that month.

 

He finished the cup and finally handed it over to the customer, swearing at the machine only twice. As Laura shouted another order at him, Derek tried to concentrate on making the coffee, and not on the fact that now Stiles and whoever she had come in with were almost at the till.

 

A twin pair of screeches rang out, and he knew she had reached the front. Laura seemed to almost jump across the table, which was just dramatic, because it was _Derek_ that just came back from uni; Laura had been in Beacon Hills the whole time. She'd probably seen Stiles around everywhere, all the time. Not that it would be in character for him to start leaping over things to greet anyone for any reason, but. The principle stood. There were crows of, “Dude!” and, “You’re looking foxy in your weird barista half skirt thing, as always,” and, “Guess who got back last month from the farthest reaches of space and time?”

 

That was probably his cue to stop skulking by the ground beans and actually greet the girl he’d only spent the last four years incessantly texting.

 

Derek turned around, and gave her a nod. Stiles grinned, and... well. Apparently she had started wearing lip gloss while Derek was away.

 

“You never told me you were back! That’s kinda what the whole texting thing is for. And Facebook. And Skype,” Stiles said with an eyeroll.

 

The guy next to her was glancing around at the line growing behind them. “Uh, Stiles? We should probably order something. These people are starting to look angry...”

 

Stiles just looked over her shoulder, gave a jaunty wave to the short queue, and turned back around to face Derek. Her utter lack of shame clearly hadn’t changed much, either. “Dude. Not even two words for your favorite person in the whole wide world? We haven’t seen each other in ages!” She took a moment to gesture at all of him. “You got unfairly hot! What the hell, Hale? I thought we were supposed to be awkward together for the rest of our miserable lives? Ow, okay, lady, geez. Give me the biggest thing you’ve got with mint in it, muchas gracias.”

 

He took the other kid’s order, too, and stepped aside for Ben to take the register as he started preparing their order. On the side of Stiles’ cup, with a ballpoint pen he scribbled in a little, _Welcome back from your gratuitous cross-country college search. 50c says you picked Berkeley anyway_.

 

It wouldn’t all fit with the Sharpie.

 

“More than two words,” he said when she sidled up to the counter to pick up her order. She squinted her eyes in confusion before he tapped the side of the cup. Watching her laugh was a thing he’d apparently missed.

 

“Alright, Shakespeare, calm down.”

 

Derek handed over the second cup as well, and the boy grabbed it. “I’m Scott, by the way. And you’re Derek, obviously.” He grinned openly, glancing between Derek and Stiles.

 

Laura was yelling another order to him, so he handed Stiles some napkins. “Hopefully you’re not as messy as you used to be but just in case.” And with that he turned to fill his next order.

 

"I used to be twelve!" she protested. Loudly. If he were smiling, the only one to see it was Laura.

 

* * *

 

The thing about Stiles was, she was everywhere. There was no place Derek went that she wouldn't be. It was a weird old habit of theirs, and she called him a lurker for it, but if he ever stepped into the grocery store, or the gas station, or the library, and she wasn't there already, she was bound to arrive within the hour. Or vice versa. The sheer amount of times a week he would have seen the girl just by stumbling upon her was probably grounds for her to give him a little look and an accusation or two - even if most of those times, she arrived after he did.

 

So it didn't surprise him one little bit to see her the following morning at five a.m., leaning against the glass door of Cafe Hale, hands tucked deep into the pockets of her oversized hoodie. She looked expectantly at him as he jogged up the few steps to unlock the doors. "Fancy meeting you here."

 

"It's almost like I work here," he said airily, opening the door and holding it for her. "You do realize it takes ages for the machine to warm up, right?"

 

"Really? Oh well, I have some applications to fill out anyway. Most importantly my one to Berkeley," she said with a grin and a wink. "So why are you working here anyway? I thought after you finished school you were going to be a big business man in the city, dolled up in suits, the whole shebang."

 

He got behind the bar, turning the machine on. "That involves actually finding a job."

 

"You were in college for, like, a century. Aren't you qualified for one of those job thingies by now?"

 

"Four years," Derek corrected unnecessarily, returning from behind the counter to unstack the chairs from atop the tables. "And apparently not, since I'm here in my family's cafe."

 

"Ooh, touchy." Stiles plonked down on the counter, swinging her long legs in front of her and shoving something pink into her mouth. Probably gum. "It's so weird seeing you now. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? That shit should be illegal." Derek quirked an eyebrow at her and she blatantly raked her eyes down his body. "I mean, damn. If I look through GQ, will I find you there?"

 

He shook his head. "Believe it or not, I didn't secretly become a model." It was strange talking to her like this. Normally they texted all the time, but now that he was face to face with Stiles, Derek didn't really know what he should be saying. Would it be rude to ask about the guy that she had been with? Probably. Why wasn't he here now?

 

He asked, and Stiles burst into raucous laughter that had no right to be so upbeat at five in the morning. "Scott? Out of bed before noon? I don't think that's an actual physical possibility."

 

They must have been pretty close for her to know his sleep habits. Derek didn't know why that bugged him so much. Maybe he was too stuck in remembering Stiles as the fourteen-year-old spitfire who he'd thought preferred girls anyway.

 

"And you?"

 

"What? Can't I come see my favorite wolfman at inexplicable hours of the morning?"

 

Derek’s eyes grew wide and he glanced around the completely empty coffee shop. Half of the theatrics were meant to prove a point. Honestly. "Shout about it, why don't you.”

 

She laughed, throwing her bag onto one of the tables. “Who’s gonna hear me? Besides another wolfman, in which case the need for secrecy kind of vanishes."

 

“Stiles.”

 

“Besides, what human would hear me call you wolfman and actually conclude that you’re a werewolf? What happened, Derek - you catch the paranoia bug in the big city?”

 

He shoved the last chair under its table and, if a little hypocritically, flashed his blue eyes at her just once. Just to hear her heartbeat jolt. “I hope you like your latte with only half the espresso this morning.”

 

She gaped at him, and it didn’t take any lip gloss to emphasize the fullness of her lips which were really quite pink already, especially in contrast to her pale skin. Of course, at the thought of contrasting with skin in relation to Stiles, he couldn’t help but remember the location of one particular constellation of freckles located just above the curve of her - well, she’d been a gangly-limbed eight-year-old when he’d seen it, with about as much shame as his own family when it came to nudity, he didn’t even know why he was remembering it in that moment when he was  _supposed_ to be tormenting her. “Dude, that’s so cold! I come to visit you in the wee hours of the morning and you threaten to reduce my caffeine intake?”

 

“It’s better than Laura’s punishments when woken from her naps,” Derek pointed out, giving them both a small shiver at the memories. Even with the threat, he got ready to make a latte with as much caffeine as would befit Stiles. Which was to say a lot. “I’m not going to open the doors to the rest of the public until six; that's usually when Ben gets here. Is there anything I can help you with?”

 

She was taking out a big stack of papers, all headed with different university logos. “Nah, you can just stand there and be my inspiration to get through this whole thing. I think it should be considered child cruelty to make me go through all these to get into a school.”

 

“You don’t have to go to college,” Derek said, sneaking in one pump of pumpkin that they had lying around under the counter unseasonally just because. “You could sit around in my cafe bitching about your life choices until you die.”

 

“Derek Hale, are you proposing to me?” There was a tiny blow to his back and Stiles’ pen clattered to the floor. “Don’t you know the etiquette for that sort of thing? You’re at _least_ supposed to be facing me when you beg me to stay with you forever.”

 

“I’m pretty sure that when someone tells me that I will be spending the rest of my life with you, it will be a judge and jury, and I will be in chains,” he said, but with mostly fondness in his voice. “Has Scott figured out where he’s going to go?”

 

Stiles made a weird noise and when Derek turned to look at her, she was grinning. “You’re weirdly interested in Scott today, Der-bear. Is there something I should know? Are we riding the bisexuality bus together now? ‘Cause I’ve gotta tell you, if you’re into dudes too, I’ve got a few guys that I’ve actually seen swoon over your Facebook page, if you want their names and numbers.”

 

She stretched out her legs under the table and arms over her head, arching her spine in a stretch that couldn’t be comfortable in that chair. The red, unzipped hoodie slid back and he could see the shape of her through the thin white t-shirt underneath. Derek had to clear his throat and turn to the cinnamon rack, sprinkling a pinch over the foamy white in her cup and pressing a lid on. “Not interested.”

 

She laughed, but was silenced when he held the cup just out of reach. Stiles made grabby hands before he gave it to her. "So, does that mean you got a... girlfriend at college? You haven't updated Facebook in a while, but with you there's always the distinct possibility that you just don't know how."

 

Derek rolled his eyes at her, spinning a chair around to sit in. "I can use Facebook. I normally choose not to. It's a waste of time that I usually don't have."

 

"Ooh, pretentious graduate talk. Too busy for Facebook," Stiles mocked, stretching out a leg to kick at the chair back. Derek felt it reverberate in his thighs and grunted. Childishly, he retorted, "Using the word pretentious makes you sound pretentious."

 

"Your face is pretentious."

 

"Now you're just being ridiculous."

 

"Well, your face has always been ridiculous." She sat back in the chair with a look of superiority on her face, slurping noisily at the cinnamony foam atop her latte. "I think we know who's won this argument."

 

"Clearly," Derek said with an eye roll. He leaned back and put his feet in the chair on the other side of the table.

 

Stiles grinned impishly at him over the lid of her cup, the tiny hole already gnawed into an ugly white plastic wave. Her oral fixation hadn't changed, then. He didn't think he could get away with teasing her about it now. Not without... implications. "I missed you, big guy. I love your family to death, but, y'know."

 

Derek glanced away, out the window. "Laura was still here."

 

"Laura is really great, but I still kinda see her as my babysitter. I know it's been years since she was, but that's just kinda how she is in my brain, y'know. But you were always there to make mischief with me."

 

He snorted. " _Make mischief?_ "

 

"My life is a Harry Potter novel, shut up."

 

And with that she set herself off on a new tangent, babbling on about him missing the last two Harry Potter films, something about having to settle for watching them with Scott, who had never really gotten into them or the books, the heathen, and Derek could almost forget that they had spent four years apart. Stiles certainly picked up from where they had left off with ease. Except now she was... okay, Derek was going to just admit it, because he'd drive himself absolutely insane trying to deny it for the rest of their lives: Stiles was gorgeous. Her eyes were big and dark, framed by the longest natural lashes he had ever scrutinized on a person, and her hair curled in soft, erratic strands that she kept short just so they'd stay manageable, he knew, and those jeans cupped her legs so perfectly it was like like she was born in them, and - maybe Derek had spent too long stuck in accidental, self-imposed celibacy. This was supposed to be the kid he'd done dumb things with as a teenager, just because she was wickedly funny and bright for a child her age... not this attractive young woman he sort of really wanted to pull into his lap and maybe definitely try to taste the pumpkin latte on her ridiculous mouth...

 

"Dude, you haven't snarked at me for, like, five minutes. Are you sick?"

 

"Sorry, you were talking for so long I started to doze," he responded easily, and stood up when he saw Ben out the window. "Gotta open up soon, sorry. Which means you'll have to pay for your next coffee."

 

Stiles groaned, looking at her latte which was mostly gone. "Seriously? I thought being friends with the family that owned a coffee shop meant free caffeine whenever I wanted?"

 

It would probably be so easy to lean over and kiss her. She'd probably be dazed for all of five seconds before shouting something nonsensical, like demanding free coffee for life. In bed. Every day for the rest of their lives. Wow, that escalated quickly. Who even thought things like that? Maybe she'd be creeped out by the fact that he was only a few years shy of being a decade older than she was and was entertaining thoughts of some domestic future together. She'd probably tell him he needed to get laid. Maybe he did.

 

"If you marry into the family, then we'll talk." And he really, really hadn't meant to say that.

 

"Uh, dude. You already proposed, remember?"

 

"I- what?" Derek asked, more than completely confused.

 

"Yeah! I had a princess dress on, and we were in the tree fort, and I said we should make it our home and stay there forever, but we would need to be married, and you said you would marry me!" Stiles said, grinning at the memory.

 

He rolled his eyes at it. "I really don't think that counts."

 

She gaped at him as Ben opened the front door, totally ignored, and then Stiles was pushing her lower lip out and giving him those Bambi eyes. "But you gave me that Ring Pop... I thought it was true love!"

 

Derek seemed to think on it for a second. "Ring Pops are only valid until you eat them. Pretty sure that's a law somewhere. Besides, that would have been a ten year engagement, which is a little ridiculous. We both have commitment issues."

 

When Ben opened the doors, the a slow trickle of people started pressing in, the morning rush starting with a mainly middle-aged crowd.

 

"Oh good, the machines are ready," Ben sighed, cutting off any reply Stiles might have had. Derek wasn't sure he'd have wanted to hear it anyway; he wasn't going to actively flirt with Stiles while she was dating some dude, and being truly attracted to her would make the whole not-flirting thing a massive struggle anyway, even if she weren't. "Full out your applications," Derek said with a meaningful glance down at the forms.

 

"Yes  _dad_ ," she scoffed, making Derek roll his eyes, but that was all they were able to chat about for the next half hour, Derek having to work quickly to fill all the orders for the impatient caffeine addicts, and Stiles sitting at her table, slowly finishing her own drink. After that she packed everything up, but got in line to order a drink to go.

 

"Mint latte please. Oh and Derek? I want it with whipped cream on it." She winked.

 

Scribbling on the side of her cup, he said, "It's highly disconcerting to a barista when I don't know if you're making a music reference or you actually want whipped cream."

 

"Can't I do both?"

 

"Half the espresso."

 

"Have mercy!"

 

Derek managed to please her with a good inch of the stuff on top.

 

* * *

 

Derek opened the porch door with his hip, careful not to drop the plate full of buns, which were practically overflowing thanks to Laura's overcompensation issues. He made it over to the table by the grill, and put it down without dropping one. Unsupervised, his father was trying to light the barbeque without burning the house down. “Do we really need all these? It’s just going to be family, right?”

 

“You know your mother won’t rest unless there are enough rolls to feed an army,” the Hale patriarch chuckled, flipping a row of burgers meticulously. “The kids will make themselves sick eating them first, which leaves more dessert for us. It’s tactical thinking, my boy.”

 

“I should have known there would be motive behind the baked goods,” Derek snorted, snagging one for himself. Laura made the best buns on the west coast. It probably wasn’t legal, the amount of butter in and on them, but damn, it was worth it. A chorus of shrieking laughter burst around the side of the house and four of Derek’s youngest cousins raced through the yard after one another, half shifted and completely naked.

 

He was about to go rein them in, but his dad stopped him. “Tracy should go get them. They’re her kids anyway. I think you’ve graduated from looking after the kiddies, don’t you?”

 

Derek shrugged, looking over at them. “I don’t mind. Used to it.”

 

“Well, after you become an adult, the only kids you should need to chase after should be your own.”

 

It was hard not to think about it when there were cubs running around the home he’d grown up in - Derek didn’t know a single wolf that didn’t want children. It was innate - instinctual. Derek’s aunt and her female mate had adopted three on their own, thanks to the instinct. He was young, but he felt it too sometimes; imagined what it would be like to wake up to a handful of little heartbeats that he’d helped create in a home of his own, teaching little ones to walk, then run, then hunt under the full moon. Sometimes waking up alone in his small apartment made him think on it a little too long (and whenever he started staring longingly at the sight of fathers grumbling irritably while vacuuming out an entire meal’s-worth of cereal from the back seats of their minivans, Derek knew he needed to snap himself out of it).

 

But he couldn’t stop to think about it now. Not while he was young, fresh out of college, no career, no mate. “Yeah, maybe.”

 

Laura came out with a huge bowl of salad and put it down beside the buns. “We should close down the shop more often. It’s nice having the whole family here.” Their end of summer barbecues were legendary among their family, taking place before all the kids went back to school the following week. The sun was still hot as the last days of August slipped by. Derek grabbed a piece of lettuce, munching on it.

 

“Do we really need this much salad? Normally most of it goes to waste.”

 

His father and sister shared a look as Derek’s mother came out, arms full of fruit salad and some potato concoction. “Stiles comes around at least twice a month to lecture us on the pitfalls of a red meat lifestyle,” Talia smirked, mouth full of sharp teeth as if to say it was funny just on principle because, hello, werewolves.

 

“I thought she only used to do that to the sheriff?”

 

“She branched out.”

 

Laura busied herself moving things around on the table to make more room. “Too bad she couldn’t make it today. She loves playing with the pups. Probably has more fun than they do,” she said with a smirk over toward Derek.

 

He glanced over at her. “You asked if she wanted to come?”

 

“Well sure! She’s practically family, you know. Some of the little ones even think she’s pack.”

 

It was a blessing and a curse to have a family of werewolves that could hear every time your heart jumped unexpectedly. It was improper etiquette to mention it, of course, but he knew his father’s side-eye when he saw it, and Laura stared at him curiously for the longest time. “Why couldn’t she make it?” he asked, clearing his throat to take their scrutiny off of himself.

 

“Something about plans with Scott. I don’t know. She kind of went on about archery and a girl in their class competing, I think? I just told her not to get struck by any stray arrows.”

 

Derek nodded, schooling his expression. It would be probably worse than a death sentence to let Laura know how he really felt about Stiles, considering their age difference and the fact that Laura acted like her protective older sister. “Do you need help cooking the burgers, Dad? Don’t want a whole pack of hungry werewolves waiting for food,” he said to change the subject.

 

“There isn’t enough room enough for me and your shoulders,” his father said dourly. He pointed the spatula at his son. “You’ve brought this upon yourself.”

 

“Your father used to have muscles like that,” Talia sighed, slapping her husband’s ass when he started to grumble. Laura and Derek groaned, protesting as ardently as their mother’s good humor would allow.

 

He was about to say something when one of the kids ran up behind him and grabbed him by the legs. “Don’t move! We’re pwaying hide and seek!” Justin whispered, and Derek conceded with a grin. Hide and seek was a game that they encouraged the kids to play, since it usually helped them practice honing their senses. Of course, it wasn’t really fair when some of the kids were older, but that was life as a kid.

 

“Not a muscle,” Derek promised, bending over at the waist to anchor the napkins with silverware as a light breeze threatened to toss them over the table. Justin giggled, completely defeating the point of staying silent for the game, and dug his claws into Derek’s leg like an excitable cat. Derek growled lowly and Justin jumped, retracting his claws immediately.

 

“Sowwy!”

 

“It’s fine; you didn’t mean to. Just be careful.”

 

He nodded and grabbed Derek’s leg with human hands, peering around Derek’s waist toward the yard where the seeker was looking for his other siblings.

 

Sarah, who had to be eight now, came over with a grin on her face. “Have you guys seen Justin? He is such a good hider, we just can’t find him anywhere!”

 

There was a giggle behind Derek, but he shrugged his shoulders. “No idea where he could be.”

 

“Haven’t seen him anywhere,” Laura said solemnly.

 

“I can’t believe he can hide this well. I don’t know if I’ll be able to find him at all,” Sarah said, as she made her slow way around Derek, and then pounced on Justin just as he let out a loud squeal. They wrestled on the porch for a good thirty seconds before both of them stopped dead and looked up, noses in the air. “‘Tiles!” Justin gasped, and Sarah only barely managed to move back quick enough to avoid a hard cranium to the chin as Justin shot up and they both skittered off the porch. From the trees, there was another excitable bark, and two fully shifted cubs scrambled across the yard toward the side of the house.

 

How the children could have smelled her before Derek, he couldn’t even imagine, but there she was, struggling to move under the weight of four werewolf children, one per limb. But she managed somehow, one slow dragging footstep at a time. “Whose little monsters are these?” she bemoaned theatrically, shaking one leg. Justin giggled and bounced with the motion, clinging tighter.

 

All four kids started talking at once, telling her everything from school projects to pictures they'd painted that morning, and Stiles gave a laugh. “This must be how a bog monster feels, all its limbs dragged down with mud. Do I look like a bog monster? Aaauurgrggguuhhhhh!”

 

All four kids were laughing when she finally got over to the porch. “I don’t remember becoming a mode of transportation, but apparently I am. And a slow one at that.”

 

“Out of breath, Stiles?” Laura teased, reaching over to push a few curls from Stiles’ forehead.

 

“Shut up,” she panted. “Not all of us have wicked werewolf strength. I can only haul around so many children at once!”

 

“Stiles makes a pretty great school bus,” Laura mused, nudging Derek’s side. “With a little bit of training, she could probably be their main mode of transportation, huh? Like a bike, but more sarcastic.”

 

Derek’s mind was definitely heading in directions it shouldn’t, since there was only one correlation to Stiles and bikes he could think of, and it was definitely unwise to start thinking about riding Stiles in the presence of  _children_ , so. His lips were sealed. “I thought you had a thing with Scott and arrows?”

 

“Yeah well, Scott started being a D-I-C-K so I left. Probably for the better, they didn’t have hamburgers there,” she said, already reaching for a bun.

 

Sarah popped up beside them. “You know I can spell right? Why was he being a-”

 

“Who wants hamburgers!” Greg yelled, waving the spatula around, and the whole family ran over.

 

Peter and his mate emerged from the kitchen with smudges of flour and chocolate up to their wrists as they wrangled up their children for food, and once freed, Stiles sidled up to Derek to wait her turn. “So. Leafy greens.”

 

“You’re impossible.”

 

She narrowed her eyes, waving her fork at him. “I knew you’d be the toughest nut to crack, but I’m totally prepared to lay down some research-fu on your ass if you wanna go.”

 

“Werewolves don't need as many vegetables as humans do. It’s been proven. So I’m gonna have a hamburger, maybe with two patties, and no salad, and you can’t stop me.” He stepped up with his bun, ready for some meat.

 

Then there was a noise that may or may not have been the highlight of his afternoon and he turned slowly to face her again. Laura was laughing her ass of across the table and the children giggled shamelessly as Derek cocked an eyebrow. “Did you just growl at me?”

 

“Did you just totally reject my care for your health?” Stiles snarked back, and behind him, Justin whispered, “Is 'Tiles gonna be the new alpha?”

 

“It’s unnecessary, Stiles.”

 

“It’s a good example for impressionable little pitchers with big ears,” Stiles said, eyes widening meaningfully. “If cool cousin Derek doesn’t do it, why should anyone else have to?”

 

“She’s got a point, Derek,” Talia pointed out. Derek couldn’t believe his mother had waited until he was an adult, being lectured by a human, to expect him to eat his vegetables.

 

He huffed, and turned back to the table, grabbing some salad with the tongs. “Just so you know, this isn’t because you told me to. It’s because my mother makes good dressing.” Derek grabbed a can of coke from the ice bucket and went to go find two free lawn chairs.

 

When she had her own food, Stiles went to go sit down on the other one, and Derek glanced at her plate, which didn’t have any more leafy greens than his did. “Not even any coleslaw?”

 

She wrinkled her nose. “Uh. No. Not for me, thanks. What the hell is that smirk, Hale, coleslaw is like the opposite of healthy. Fifty percent of it is mayo.”

 

“Whatever you say,” he grunted, sinking his teeth into his burger maybe just a little more viciously than necessary just to make her twist her lips up in revolt.

 

“You’re totally doing that on purpose. Justin eats with more finesse than that.”

 

He shrugged as he swallowed. “What can I say? I’m a messy eater.”

 

Stiles spit out her mouthful of pop at that, hitting her bare knees instead of her pants, and then started groaning that pop went up her nose and hurt and it was all his fault.

 

“What did I do? I don’t see how you being unable to keep something in your mouth is my fault.”

 

And then she started coughing and laughing, which really just proved his point and shouldn’t be as funny as she thought it was.

 

“Sorry,” she croaked, wiping at her watery eyes. “When you watch as much porn as I do, most things end up as double entendres in the ol’ filter.”

 

He felt his face get a little warm recalling exactly what she’d said, and Stiles snickered. “See, Mr. Messy Eater?” Stiles waggled her eyebrows, and while Derek tried to school his expression into a reprimanding scowl, all he could think about was - nope. Not going there. Not while she was sprawled out and smelling sticky-sweet and sweaty in the heavy summer air. He wanted to lick her, actually lick her, where the soda spilled on her bare knee, on her wrists that just looked like they’d taste soft and cool, on her freckled shoulder where she’d tanned under the sun and it looked like it’d been peeling from an old sunburn.

 

Instead he took a gulp of soda to make his throat start working again. "Never thought the day would come when I heard you talk openly about porn. Your innocence is officially gone."

 

"Was I ever really innocent? I prefer to think of it as uneducated in the ways of the world."

 

Derek desperately pushed back any thoughts about Stiles _educating_ herself. "You make it sound like you probably watch more than you should."

 

Stiles shrugged, and Derek could swear the tips of her ears were a little pinker than normal. "Well, I mean, girls aren't the exception to the rule of horniness in the face of loneliness, Derek. I'm not ashamed. Shame has been ripped from my body."

 

He squinted at her. "... Please tell me you didn't charge a subscription to your dad's credit card."

 

"I was fifteen and stupid!" she moaned, dropping her head into her palms and shaking it woefully.

 

“And please tell me it wasn’t to some really kinky website that he found the name of on his bill,” Derek added, and by the look on her face he shook his head, laughing. “That man deserves a prize for raising you all by himself.”

 

Stiles shrugged and picked at her burger. “He says I got worse when I started hanging out with Scott, but I just think it’s because Scott is a crappy liar and his mom would always tell my dad.”

 

Oh. Right. The boyfriend. Derek glared down at his half-eaten burger, picking at the bun. “What happened today?” he asked, and it probably seemed like it came out of left field to Stiles when she couldn’t see the weird jealousy monster churning in Derek’s brain. “Why aren’t you hanging out with him? It had to be pretty important if you were passing up free food for it.” He wished he hadn’t used that as his excuse, because as it came out of his mouth, he knew it was true.

 

She glanced over and worried her bottom lip between her teeth, which took off some of the gloss but made it even redder. “It, um, it was nothing, really, it was just one of our friends had an archery tournament, and I wanted to go to cheer for her. And she won which was awesome! And Scott wanted to stay behind to congratulate her so we didn’t go for pizza like we had planned. So I figured, hey, hamburgers are just as good as pizza, so I came to crash your party. It’s been awhile since I saw the whole family anyway.”

 

“Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked, which was really like shooting himself in the foot. He was happy she’d come, and the only reason she’d come was because Scott made himself unavailable; Derek should really just learn to accept nice things when the world presented them to him. But he couldn’t. She didn’t look happy. Stiles shrugged and squinted over at him, mouth twisted in a sheepish expression.

 

“I mean, it does just a little, but who doesn’t get the tiniest bit upset when they’re ditched for a prettier girl, huh?”

 

Derek glanced away, and down to his plate, not sure where he should be looking. “Ah, well... I’m sure she’s not prettier.” Shit, seriously, how did he stop being able to communicate like a normal person? When did he go from a childhood friend to some creep who tried to hit on Stiles when she was feeling bad about her boyfriend?

 

Luckily, Stiles laughed at that, and seemed in a much better mood. “Nope, she’s definitely prettier, but thanks for the confidence boost. Hell, any compliment from you is practically golden, isn’t it?” She grinned over at him so warmly that he thought he might combust under the innocence of it. Geez, if she knew the kind of creepy stalker thoughts he’d been entertaining about her, there was no way she would smile at him like that - like the sun shone out of his ass.  

 

“And without sarcasm, too,” Derek mused, like he too was surprised he could come up with something nice to say about her. She laughed because she couldn’t see that all the things he thought about her made him want her like crazy.

 

They talked easily while finishing off their food, including all the salad, and when a few family members came over to talk it felt almost like he had never left for university, and Stiles still considered their house her second home, and the whole family along with her.

 

“‘Tiles!” Justin cried, stumbling over to her and catching himself on her knee. He held up probably one of the biggest oranges Derek had ever seen, his clumsy little claws dropping it into her lap. Derek growled quietly and Justin jumped, retracting them. “Peel for me?”

 

“I’d be honored, little dude,” Stiles answered sagely, ruffling his soft brown hair before she dug her thumbs into the skin of the fruit to peel some away. Slowly but surely, he could see what she was doing as Justin giggled and bounced excitedly, half draped over her lap. She was peeling the orange in one long, twisted curl, pink tongue poked out of her mouth as she concentrated on her task.

 

While she was peeling it, Justin sat up in her lap, and started rubbing his chin over her bare arm. Derek choked a bit on his piece of pie and looked away.

 

When she was finished, she handed over the orange and held up the peel, bouncing in her hand. “Look at it twirl!” she crowed, handing over the peel as well. He giggled as he took it, and bounced off her lap. “Thanks ‘Tiles!”

 

“Any time, kiddo.” He grinned toothily before running off to show his siblings the treasures he had acquired and Stiles bit her bottom lip. That was the look she got when she was trying not to smile too hard, lest she broke her face. “Your cousins dig me,” she bragged, leaning back to pick the orange gunk from her nails. She was trying to joke, but Derek could smell the satisfaction and pleasure radiating from her like a wave.

 

“Obviously. Since he was scenting you.”

 

“He what?”

 

“Scenting you, Stiles. He wants you to smell more like him. More like pack.” And Derek really couldn’t complain with that. A rather big part of him actually wanted to _be_ the one scenting her. “It’s probably more instinct for him at this point rather than a choice, but he was definitely scenting you.”

 

“Seriously?” She gaped at him for a minute before turning red. “Oh man. That’s so cool! I mean, I noticed that the kids were really cuddly, and I thought... I considered that that might be it, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to sound full of myself, you know?” She rubbed a cheek bashfully. “That’s awesome. Do I... smell like pack then?”

 

Derek smirked, taking a gulp of his pop. “You smell like nachos, mostly. I’m guessing you had those before the archery thing?” He chuckled when Stiles tossed an empty cup at him. “Fine, fine. Under the nachos, you... yeah, I guess you kind of smell like pack.” Not as much as she had when she was a kid and over at their house practically every day, but he could still smell it. Especially considering the scent of cub rubbed lovingly all over her. He was absolutely not thinking about how well the scent suited her. There be dragons down that path of thought. "They look like piling on you is a pretty common thing. And you smell like them, a bit."

 

She grinned and seemed really happy about that. "Do you want me in your pack?" Stiles asked, by now mostly playing with her berry pie.

 

"Of course. You're... welcome in the pack any time, and it's not just me that feels that way."

 

Stiles licked her lips and smiled in a way that told Derek he was well and truly fucked, if the way his heart began to race was any indication. "I love you guys. There's no pack I'd rather have accidentally become a part of."

 

Really, it was a good thing Laura interrupted when she did, or Derek would have said something stupid. She brought over her lawn chair, putting it right next to Stiles'. "Look at you two, all on your own over here. If I hadn't known better I would have thought you were a couple!"

 

Pushing her bottom lip out until he could see tiny blue veins in the soft, wet pinkness, Stiles said with a wobbly voice, "He revoked his proposal, Laura. Like the fact that he proposed with hard candy made it any less legit. How am I supposed to cope with the rejection?"

 

“Oh baby, here’s what you do. First you put on a skimpy outfit to make him know what he’s missing. And then you go with his sister to a showing of Cats in the theater in Sacramento next Friday.” Laura winked, as if Stiles wouldn’t understand that she was actually being invited to a play. Derek thought that maybe he was a little childish for feeling somewhat jealous - Stiles could just as easily go for Laura as she would for Derek if she ever decided that Scott didn’t really do it for her. Which wasn’t a pleasant thought, because when it came to sibling rivalries, Laura always won.

 

“Are you trying to mend my broken heart with crappily spectacular Broadway musicals?” Stiles gasped, clutching a hand to her heart.

 

“If you’ll have me,” Laura said solemnly, curling a hand over the back of Stiles' neck, and Derek wanted to  _bite_ his sister.

 

“I couldn’t say no to you. Besides, I can’t say no to Cats, either. Rum Tum Tugger was possibly my first crush,” Stiles said seriously.

 

Derek swallowed the last of his pop and stood up, grabbing his paper plates. “I’m going to help clean up.” He really didn’t need to listen to how many people were apparently ahead of him in the line of people Stiles could fall for. Even if it included a dancing man in a cat suit.

 

“Very proactive of you, baby brother,” Laura said, smugly tugging at the curls that looked so soft there at the nape of Stiles’ neck. Derek was going to put ants in her ice cream. Because that was how adults handled jealousy with maturity and grace. Stiles gave him a funny look and stood up, too. “I’ll help. You guys fed me, after all, and let’s be real here - your mom’s gonna send me home with, like, half a dead cow and enough potato salad to drown a lesser man.”

 

Laura pulled one of the free chairs over and put up her feet. “I helped make everything, so I’m just gonna relax. But have fun you two!” She leaned back, closing her eyes in the sun.

 

Stiles was smiling as she went around grabbing people’s empty plates. “So, would me going to Cats with Laura make you jealous enough to put the engagement back on? I would take another Ring Pop as an affirmative.”

 

Derek glanced up at her in time to see Stiles wrinkle her upturned nose at a plate that had overturned and was dripping baked beans onto the table. Her children would probably inherit that nose, and with that thought Derek was officially the biggest creep in California. “I don’t think they make Ring Pops anymore,” he said instead of falling down to one knee and saying what was really on his mind.

 

“I bet they do. You would just have to look really hard for them. Which would the gesture all the grander!” she laughed even as she tried to clean up the beans with some napkins.

 

“I’ll grab a rag, it’ll be easier.”

 

He wondered idly if Scott had ever done something sweet for Stiles. She was the biggest goof on the planet, but she had such an Achilles heal for stuff like that - childhood proposals with ring-shaped candy, getting special little surprise flavors in her coffee, hearing the personalized ringtones he and Laura had picked for her when she got her first phone... Stiles loved stuff like that, when people showed that they thought about her, that she was wanted. It made his jaw tighten at the thought that Scott might not be making her happy.

 

Of course, he knew he couldn’t talk to her about it. Normally when people questioned her choices, it just made her want to do them even more. And he really didn’t want to think what that would mean with Scott. Derek came back out with a rag and another garbage bag, and some containers that his mom had shoved in his hand with instructions of filling them full of food for Stiles.

 

“Take whatever you want,” he said, handing them over to her, right up in her space, and she looked up at him with a bright grin that reminded him how simple and easy it would be to just lean over the tupperware in their hands and kiss her soft, pink mouth. He could explain later why he had suddenly begun to pine for the girl his sister used to babysit, who he’d once seen running, scrawny and naked, through the forest, just to prove she was as comfortable with wolves as the wolves were with her; why he’d kissed her knowing some dumb kid had her heart instead; why he wanted her so badly that, even though he’d once thought he was a master of self control, he was proving to be weak and helpless in the face of something as simple as wanting Stiles. Derek even thought maybe she’d let him.

 

But then her phone rang, breaking the moment. She shuffled the tupperware around, almost dropping it twice, but got the phone to her ear. “Scott? Hey! Oh yeah, I’m just at Derek’s. No biggie, you’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow. Yup, have fun. Bye!”

 

He could have listened to both sides of the conversation, but Derek hadn’t wanted to intrude, and it was considered impolite to eavesdrop, even though it was so easy. He had grown adept at focusing on the sound of the birds in the distance that, ironically, it was like he didn’t have super hearing at all. She smiled sheepishly and stacked the plastic containers neatly on the table. “Sorry about that, dude. Scott’s sort of hopeless; I try to always answer his calls in case he’s stuck down a well or something.”

 

“You’ve regulated yourself to the Lassie in that relationship?”

 

“Well, someone’s got to.” She shook her head with a fond little snort. “Without me, he’d probably be lying dazed in a ditch somewhere half the time. But his mom makes the best lasagna, and their cabinets are like, always stocked with cookies, so my intentions aren’t entirely altruistic.”

 

“Of course it would come down to food with you,” he said, grabbing the bowl of salad to bring inside. The kids were still running around everywhere, so they had to be careful not to get tripped by one of them. Sarah, ever the well-behaved oldest sibling, offered to take the trash from Stiles, and then all the children were following her example, and with their tiny army of cubs, they managed to clean off the table in half the time with only a few minor incidents. Stiles was sticky with sweat by the time they were done, and she looked a little flushed, so Derek pushed a bottle of water into her hands and Justin looped his arms around her hips.

 

“Play with us, ‘Tiles?”

 

“I could never say no to you guys. But only for a little while, alright? I really should be getting home.” She reached down to grab Justin and pick him up, twirling him around so it was like he was flying. Of course, then all the other kids wanted the same treatment. Stiles looked over to Derek with pleading eyes. “Help me? You take the bigger kids? I mean, those muscles have to be good for something, right?”

 

His muscles could be good for a lot of things. Picking people up. Carrying them places. People like Stiles. Places like his bedroom. Why couldn’t she have suggested that instead? “You were doing just fine earlier,” Derek pointed out, though he did lift Sarah like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder so quickly that she squealed.

 

“Yeah, but my superpowers were sapped with food and heat exhaustion.” She took a deep swig of the water, lifting her arm while Justin clung to it, shrieking with delight as he was tugged a few inches off the floor. Stiles had muscle too, Derek realized - nothing really pronounced, but when her bicep visibly flexed under her skin as she lowered and lifted Justin again, his mouth went a little dry. Apparently he had a thing for that now.

 

When he was put on the ground, Justin ran around them, his boundless energy keeping him running until Sarah was put down and ran to the trees with him. Stiles laughed, watching them go, and all the other kids seemed to follow in a spontaneous game of tag.

 

“I really should be going though. Dad'll be getting off his shift soon. But I’ll see you tomorrow? Bright and early?”

 

Derek raised his eyebrows. “Is this a thing? You’re just going to start harassing me at five in the morning now?”

 

“I will go to  _so_ many lengths for free coffee,” she answered, batting her eyelashes in exaggerated flirtation. Joking or not, Derek thought his heart might stop from the implications.

 

“Get up a little earlier and just come bug me at my apartment,” was what he hadn’t meant to say but what came out of his mouth anyway.

 

She grinned at that and pushed her phone at him. “Put in the address. Though no promises. Unless you have whipped cream at your apartment for my coffee.” Which brought to mind all the other things they could be doing with the whipped cream in his apartment, but that shouldn’t really matter because they were  _so not happening_.  He typed in the address with his thumb and tried for levity while what he really wanted was to proposition her, maybe beg if it came to that, which it might if he didn’t learn to get a grip on whatever this was he was feeling,

 

“I have whipped cream for lots of things.”

 

Stiles was biting her fingernail and grinned around it. “Like what things?”

 

“Like when I have strawberries. Or hot chocolate. Or-”

 

“Muffins? Do you like whipped cream on your muffins?” Stiles interrupted, bold even with the deep blush on her cheeks.

 

Derek swallowed, and had to remember that she was dating someone who was not him, so he had to play this cool. “Whipped cream can be good on muffins. And cherries.” Well, maybe he should just get pervert of the year award then. Stiles’ throat audibly clicked when she swallowed and - and she wasn’t denying anything about the blatant cherry comment, but no. No way Stiles had never... with that mouth? And that confidence? And that ridiculous tendency to do crazy things just for kicks?

 

“Oh my God, dude,” Stiles finally said, breaking the thick, hot tension with a laugh. “Your whole family can hear you making ridiculous food-based innuendos.”

 

And he really didn’t know what to say to the besides, “You started it.” Stiles laughed and bumped him with her shoulder.

 

“I guess I did. But alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Stiles gave a wave, and started walking to the gate. Of course, before she could get anywhere near it, there were kids blocking her path, and she had to give each of them a hug and promise that she would come back to play sometime. Derek held the railing of the front porch in a white-knuckled grip as Justin pressed his cheek into her palm and she scented him back. He really wasn’t going to survive this.

 

“What’s with the rabbit heartbeat, bro?” Laura asked, sidling up to his side to wave Stiles off as well.

 

“Nothing.” He said, turning around, not even caring if she caught the lie. The real question was, if Stiles actually came by in the morning, how was he possibly going to stop himself from making a move?

 

Self control. Respect for her choices. Maybe if he could convince his dick that she hadn’t been flirting, she was just being Stiles, it would help.

 

Or it could make it worse.

 

This was Derek’s life. Of course it was only going to make it worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek hadn’t even been sure that Stiles really intended to drop by his apartment at four in the morning, because that was ridiculous; even while she’d suffered insomnia for two years in a row and had texted him at all hours of the night, she was deep in sleep at four a.m. Just because he’d half joked about it the day before didn’t mean it would happen. Still, there was coffee enough for two in the pot just in case, and maybe he’d steamed some milk while he was at it even though he drank his dark. He had no expectations. Really.

 

But the buzzer went off, Derek nearly tripped over himself to push the button to open the door to the building. A few minutes later, she knocked.

 

It wasn’t like Derek had never seen Stiles out of a t-shirt before; she had a vast and varied wardrobe, thanks to the hundreds of phases she’d gone through over the years. But to Derek’s hormone-heavy brain, Stiles’ simple red button-down was like a prelude to porn. It hugged her waist and the generous curve of her hips, and just enough buttons had been popped that the gentle slope of her breast was visible in the dim light of the hallway. She’d rolled the sleeves up to her elbows, and in contrast to the white undersides of her forearms and the smattering of moles over her neck and chest... well. Derek might have whined just a little bit. But only in his head.

 

“You’re late.”

 

“Late for what?” she fired right back. “I know you shower at night, Hale, so I couldn’t have missed too much at this ungodly hour of the morning.”

 

"You say ungodly but it was you who wanted to get up this early." Derek went to his coffee machine to start pouring some in a mug. "You'll have to drink fast. I should get going to work in a while." Which meant that he had less time to potentially screw something up, which was good.

 

He made the mistake of turning around as she sauntered into the kitchen, because, holy hell, it was like those jeans were painted on. Normally it was difficult to suss out the shape of her legs under the baggy slacks she preferred to wear, but the dark blue skinny jeans squeezed her thick thighs and muscled calves with ridiculous perfection, and he was absolutely staring, needed to stop before he completely made an ass of himself. She took a seat and made grabby motions for the drink he'd prepared for her.

 

“Wait, it’s not done.” He set the mug on the table, just out of reach. Then he went to the fridge, and grabbed a can of whipped cream, pressing the nozzle to squirt some on top of her coffee. “There, now you can have it.”

 

She was grinning from ear to ear as he sat down across from her, and dipped her finger in the whip cream. “You’re so good to me.”

 

And she was pressing the finger to her tongue, lips plumped around the digit as she pulled it back. Stiles’ pink tongue darted out to swipe over her lips. She had to be doing that on purpose. He’d never seen anyone else eat so provocatively before in his _life_. “I am,” he agreed, biting back the ‘I could be  _very_ good to you’ that wanted desperately to come out of his mouth. If he didn’t get a grip, Derek might seriously fuck up an eleven-year friendship with the most amazing human he’d ever met, and it would only take a single sentence.

 

Hastily, Derek brought the mug to his lips and took a sip of the too-hot coffee before he could do just that.

 

To have something to do with his hands and, more importantly, his eyes, Derek grabbed the newspaper, opening it over the table. It was amazing how he had grown up with Stiles, and just because he found her attractive, he had no idea what to talk about. More amazing though, was that Stiles didn’t seem to know what to say either.

 

“Yeah, I thought you were being a little too weirdly nice,” she finally said, pointedly eying the paper. “Reading the newspaper with a guest present adds just the right douchey touch. Very you.”

 

“I thought you were preoccupied with that whipped cream,” he said in lieu of apologizing and rounding the island to lavish the attention on her he really wanted to. “I was feeling a little left out.”

 

“Well you could join me, and get some whipped cream of your own. Then you wouldn’t feel left out.” She raised an eyebrow, grinning. “You could tell me a story. Tell me about some of the crazy college parties you went to.”

 

He raised one eyebrow the way he knew made her crack a very specific grin and said, “You think I went to college parties.”

 

“An animal like you? Nah, you  _crashed_ them. You were the guy that was too cool to kick out, too intimidating to approach. You probably went all lone-wolf in the corner somewhere, half masked in shadow.”

 

“You’ve thought about this a lot.”

 

“Maybe. Did it work out for you? Were people intimidated? Did you get all the girls because you were dark and mysterious?” The way she asked made it clear that he wasn’t at all mysterious to her. He shrugged.

 

“I didn’t get a girlfriend if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“How about some tail? And by that I of course mean another werewolf.”

 

“There were only a couple other wolves on campus, and they were pretty clearly mated,” he said, cupping his warm mug. “I hate to burst your bubble, but none of the imaginary social life you mapped out for me ever happened.”

 

“You can’t actually expect me to believe you spent four years in solitude, Batman.”

 

“I studied hard, worked part time at an autobody shop, and in my free time I texted some weird kid from back home. When did I have time to be a budding socialite?”

 

She was looking at him with her mouth slightly open, the mug at her bottom lip. “You mean you were a sexy mechanic with a penchant for making perfect coffee and you _still_ didn’t get a girlfriend?”

 

Derek tried to keep a straight face for a few seconds, but a sheepish smile broke out. “I didn’t say I never got offers.”

 

“Not a boyfriend either?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“Oh my gosh, Derek, you are seriously putting all of yourself to waste. Even if you didn’t have a body that puts Adonis to shame and a face that makes angels cry, you’re still... pretty grumpy and a stickler for the rules, yes, but you’re really cool, Derek. You... you personalize peoples’ coffee,” she said, thumbing the rim of her mug and staring down pretty avidly at the slowly melting cream. “And you’re sweet with kids and you’re an impossibly good listener. Is it just the small town mentality talking, or are you seriously not a catch in New York, too?”

 

“I personalize  _your_ coffee,” was all he could think of to say.

 

And she grinned so wide that he could almost see all her teeth. “Yeah, you do. Still though, how could you not have been like mauled by half the New York populace? Mostly the women, probably some shy dudes. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever really seen you with a girlfriend. Not even in high school. Do you just scare everyone away if they like you?”

 

“What, you mean that’s not how natural selection works?”

 

She pulled a face, obviously trying not to laugh. “What, only the strongest survive? You’re waiting for someone to adapt to you? Be good enough for you? That’s so...”

 

“Ingenious.”

 

“I was gonna go with pompous, but sure, whatever makes you happy.”

 

“I’m just selective, Stiles. I don’t do flings, because when I do, they turn out to be psychopathic arsonists.”

 

Stiles’ lips thinned, the memory of Kate hanging like a dark cloud above Derek's kitchen. “Well, she was breaking the hunter code, and your mom got her banished from Beacon Hills, so we don’t really have to worry about her anymore. Really doubt you would find another one.”

 

“With my luck?”

 

“What do you mean, your luck? Derek, you’ve got the soul of a broody puppy and the body of a god, a wonderful loving family, a full education, and you’re gainfully employed. The universe had to hand you Kate Argent to even things out.” She reached across the table and patted his hand. “You’re perfect, Derek. Seriously. And I know all your flaws, so I’m allowed to make that call. You’re gonna find someone who’s just as perfect, because there’s no way you’d settle for anything less.” And that was her self-deprecating face, which had absolutely no place in any of the things she just said. He turned his hand over until the heel of her palm was tucked into the cradle of his and his fingers wrapped loosely around her wrist.

 

“Thanks, Stiles. It’s good to know that you believe in my ability to seduce. Even though I’m broody.” That got him a little smile, and Stiles nodded, then finally pulled her hand back. Derek sipped at his coffee. “You’re starting school today, aren’t you? Do you want a ride there?”

 

“You’re out of your mind,” she snorted, slurping cautiously at the coffee. A tiny dollop of lukewarm cream sat perched on the tip of her nose when she set it back down, and he wasn’t kind enough to tell her it was there. “I only need a few more credits to graduate. My school day doesn’t start until noon. After this, I’m gonna crash hard for about five hours.”

 

“You can sleep here, if you want.” Forever.

 

She grinned over at him, but shook her head. “I told Dad I'd make him breakfast when he got off his shift. Thanks for the offer though. You must trust me a lot to let me stay here when you’re at work.”

 

“I just know that if anything is broken, I can blame you.”

 

She looked like she was thinking about that for a long moment before she started to go red around the ears and cheeks. “What could I possibly break if I’m crashing at your place?” she asked, grinning nervously. “Don’t tell me you think I’d thrash around and break your bedside lamp or something.”

 

“I offer you a place to sleep, and you instantly assume I meant in my bed?” That was interesting. So was the little noise she made before she nearly drowned herself in coffee to avoid responding.

 

He gave a small chuckle at. Derek really had to remind himself that she was dating someone else - that it would be horrible of him to ask her to choose, even by just trying to kiss her. God, he wanted to, though. He thought he could probably even convince her to stay if he did. Stiles’ scent was thick with interest, and he knew that sometimes the things he said and did aroused her. Derek wasn’t an idiot. His senses were keen and his attention was constantly focused on Stiles; it was impossible not to know. But it was bad form to call anyone out on reactions their bodies had if they chose to make no move. Derek was not an animal. Just because he made Stiles flush didn’t mean she would choose him over her boyfriend.

 

Stiles recrossed her legs, which brought his eye to them, the tight jeans hugging her curves. Dammit, why did she have to wear something like that? Maybe it was time for them both to leave. After all, they were both finished their coffee, so there was really no reason that he shouldn’t be getting to the shop. “I can’t even begin to tell you how pointless it was to force yourself over here just to drink coffee before going all the way back home to sleep.”

 

“It’s not pointless,” she said defensively, standing to take their mugs to the sink. “Maybe I want to spend time with you.”

 

“At four in the morning?”

 

“Why? You gonna invite me to your apartment again sometime soon? A girl has to take whatever opportunities presented to check out a hot guy’s bachelor pad.”

 

“I like to think that this is a little cleaner than a bachelor pad.”

 

She snorted, standing up to put the mug in the sink. “No kidding. I never remembered you being such a clean freak, but looking at this place you would think Howie Mandel lived here or something.”

 

“I don’t know who that is, but if he’s organized and keeps himself together, I approve of the comparison.”

 

 

“You’re seriously the biggest goober to ever live, oh my god,” she laughed, setting the cups upside down in the rack beside the sink. Stiles toweled off her hands and spun around to face Derek, licking her lips once. The gesture was almost nervous. “I... should probably go then?”

 

Derek grabbed his bag. “I’m leaving too. I’ll go down with you.” They went to the door and he spent a second locking it. “Alright, the elevator is just down the hall.”

 

“What, you and your majestic thighs don’t take the stairs?”

 

“Keep that up and I’ll start to think you’re not joking.”

 

“Joking? What do you mean, joking? If you aren’t selling nude shots of various parts of you, you aren’t living right, Derek, holy  _shit_. I could bounce a nickel off that ass.”

 

“What does that even mean?” he groaned, feeling a little hot as he directed her toward the elevator.

 

She bounced along, chipper now that she had her coffee. Stiles pressed the button, and there was the sound of the thing coming to life. “Hard to think that this place is big enough to have an elevator. There’s only three floors. Why does it have one? It would probably do most of the people good to walk up some steps.”

 

“For the physically disabled, probably,” he said, and made the mistake of looking down her back when a little strip of skin between her shirt and the waistband of her jeans caught his eye. It was just asking for fingertips to run along its warm length, to raise a stripe of goosebumps. Stiles probably got pretty vocal when certain parts of her were explored.

 

The elevator doors whirred open, efficiently jolting him from his lustful reverie, and she stepped inside first.

 

Derek pressed the button for the main floor and the doors slid closed. “You used to always jump on elevator rides. Scared the shit out of my dad.”

 

The floor lurched and she turned to him suddenly, surging into his space, and before their heads could bash together, Derek caught her around the waist, pushing her back at arm's length on steady feet. Stiles looked mortified, beet-red down to the hem of her matching red shirt, and her mouth dropped open. Such a look of devastation was evident in her eyes that Derek had to smile crookedly at her - which only seemed to make it worse.

 

Stiles bit her lip and turned away. She tugged at the bottom of her shirt. Derek was a little confused at what had just happened. Why did she look so mortified after almost falling over?

 

The door opened on the main floor, and Stiles rushed out. "Are you alright?" Derek called after her.

 

"Fine!" she yelled back, and there must have been something wrong, because her voice cracked in pitch. The scent of her distress was stifling, and Derek walked after her, reaching out to touch her shoulder when he caught up.

 

"Hey, Stiles -"

 

"It's fine, Derek, it's - it doesn't matter," she grumbled, ducking her head away. "I'm really tired, okay? Thanks for the coffee."

 

Stiles hurried to where her jeep was parked, and Derek was left standing in the door, utterly confused. "Fuck," he muttered, heading toward the door that lead to the underground parking. Next time he saw her, he would have to apologize for whatever just happened.

 

Which was a nice thought in theory, and it would have been much easier to carry out if Stiles didn't seem to be completely impossible to catch in the excruciating week to follow.

 

It was easy enough to brush off the first and second day as nothing but Stiles getting back into the swing of the new school year. She had to devote her time to something other than pestering him at the cafe, which made sense. The third day was when he began to allow himself to worry, just a little. On the fourth, a couple of the part-timers started to steer clear of him, and on the fifth, Laura had to sit him down and give him the being-snappish-toward-the-customers-is-bad-for-business spiel.

 

He was counting the days to when Laura went to the play with Stiles. He could count on his sister to try to find out what was wrong, or when she inevitably brough Stiles back to the Hale house for a sleepover, Derek could be there to talk to her himself.

 

Then he wondered if it was a little odd that he intended to ambush her when Laura brought her back to his family home. Because it couldn't be interpreted as anything else - he had his own apartment in the same town, and only came to stay the night when she was over as well? That wasn't coincidence; it was creepy. He had already clearly (probably) done something to upset her; would lying in wait to pounce at first opportunity only make things worse?

 

Laura grabbed him before he left work the day that they were going to the play. "So are you going to tell me what's going on or not? Because both you and Stiles are acting really weird and I want to know why. So spill."

 

Derek glanced over at the register where Ben was taking orders and herded Laura into the dry storage. "I don't  _know_ ," he grumbled irritably, tugging the apron over his head. "She just stopped coming by. She came over to my place last Thursday and I haven't seen her since."

 

Laura's mouth fell open, and he entertained the idea of making a catching flies joke. "She went over to your place? Oh my god... did you have sex?! And then you were a douch and didn't cuddle or something and now she hates you!"

 

"Yeah, no, that didn't happen. We had coffee."

 

"You had coffee at your apartment, but you didn't  _have coffee at your apartment_?"

 

"Please stop putting emphasis on your double entendres. It's making me wildly uncomfortable."

 

She smacked his arm. "Focus! Think back to the morning you missed your opportunity to woo her into bed -"

 

"She's not even legal yet, Laura."

 

"There was so much bitterness in that statement, Derek. It's almost like it really bothers you." Derek bared his teeth and she growled right back. "Seriously, Der. Is there anything you could have said that might have crossed the line? She's pretty resilient to your shit, but everyone has a breaking point."

 

"I didn't say anything. She seemed fine before we went into the elevator." And nothing really happened in the elevator to make her avoid him.

 

"You didn't try to cop a feel?"

 

"Are you insane?" he hissed. "She stumbled, I caught her before she could crack her skull on my face, she started smelling like mortification, and I don't  _know_."

 

Laura's brow furrowed. "She's never exactly been coordinated, Der... She wasn't embarrassed when she accidentally fell out of her treehouse and broke her arm when she was ten, right? Why would a lurchy elevator bug her so much?"

 

"I. Don't. Know. And now she's avoiding me, so I can't ask her." He really didn't want to go to her house, because she normally wasn't there, and he would have to creep around until she came home. Wouldn't _that_ just put him in her good graces.

 

"If she's avoiding  _you_ , it must be pretty bad," Laura mused, scratching the back of her neck. "Do you want me to ask her tonight, baby bro?"

 

He winced. "I'm not... I don't know. I don't want to make it worse."

 

"Alright. If I find a way to ask, I will. But promise me that if she comes around you'll try to patch things up? I hate when family fights, and she's pretty much family by this point." _At this point_ , Derek's ass. They'd practically adopted her ever since Stiles had found out that her babysitter was a werewolf.

 

If Derek had screwed that up somehow, he'd end up hating himself. "Okay. Yeah. Just - be subtle."

 

"You're telling  _me_ to be subtle?"

 

"She's smart, Laura, just make sure it doesn't sound like I went through you for this. She'll probably figure it out anyway, but we don't have to make it easy for her."

 

Laura cackled and patted him on the shoulder. "You're so worried! This is Stiles we're talking about. You probably just insulted Doctor Who or something. It'll be fine!"

 

Derek didn't know if it was fine, but he was willing to find out. Spending the evening with his parents may have been a mistake; his father shot him so many knowing looks it was sad, and his mother just tutted and shook her head, as though it was not only obvious, but  _disappointing_ , the way he hunched over a book in the living room, pretending to read while all he could do was let his mind wander to Stiles. The evening passed agonizingly slowly, and Derek nearly rethought the entire thing and decided to bail half a dozen times, each one quashed by the faint scent of Stiles on the empty chair by the fireplace.

 

Long after it grew dark outside, Laura returned. She looked surprised to see him. Derek looked up from his book, glancing around. “Where’s Stiles?”

 

“I already dropped her off, silly. Wow, someone’s eager.” She giggled and went to go sit on the couch beside their father. “The play was amazing by the way, thanks for asking.”

 

His glare was white hot, but Laura wasn’t moved. She spent the next excruciating hour chatting with their parents about the play and the crazy amount of Reese’s Pieces Stiles had managed to sneak into the theater, and finally, after making herself some tea and kissing their parents’ cheeks, she gave Derek a meaningful look and strode off down the hallway.

 

“So?” he whispered, not even halfway down the hall toward her bedroom. “What did she say?”

 

“She said many many things, and I know _exactly_ why she ran off. But I have been sworn to secrecy.” She poked him in the chest. “You will just have to find out for yourself.” Laura gave a wolfish smile, and Derek knew she would be a frightening alpha one day. Hopefully far, far in the future. But she wasn’t alpha yet, so he bared his teeth right back.

 

“She won’t talk to me. She doesn’t answer my calls, and if she responds to a text, it’s always... vague and inscrutable. Laura, please.”

 

She groaned and leaned forward, wrapping an arm around his neck. “You may not believe me, because I was always hard on you when we were kids, but you are my favourite little brother, you know? I do love you Derek. And some things I do are for your own good, and not just to torment you. You’re going to have to find out on your own.”

 

He frowned, and she sighed, pushing at the center of his forehead. “Your face is gonna stick that way.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

Laura laughed, bonking her forehead to his chin and letting him go. “It’s not all that bad, baby bro. Trust me. It’s all one big misunderstanding.”

 

“What’s one big misunder... Laura!”

 

Her bedroom door slammed in his face.

 

Derek groaned, leaning against the door. Then he pulled out his phone, and opened up a text to Stiles. _How was the play?_

 

It took a minute for him to get one back, which was weird because she was normally a speed texter.  _Good. Going 2 sleep. Night._

 

With a grimace, he typed out a quick,  _Sleep well_ and shoved the phone into his pocket. This was awful. And he had to fix it, whatever it was, because he’d spent four years without Stiles, and now that she smelled like pack, he couldn’t just let her go. He could smell her on Laura even now, and it made his chest clench uncomfortably tight. Derek wasn’t a stranger to climbing in through her bedroom window, but somehow he didn’t think she’d appreciate him crossing that boundary while she was mad at him.

 

He’d just have to keep calling. Try to keep the door to communication open for her while trying to respect her space.

 

It was a good plan, he thought.

  
It was a plan that fell through before three weeks had even passed.


	3. Chapter 3

Of course he knew when the day was coming. How could he not, after spending the past ten years thinking about that day. When he was away at college, he would only ever send Stiles one text on this day, just a simple _Okay?_. And most of the time he got back a short, perfunctory _yeah_.

It had become a thing, before he graduated high school. On the anniversary of her mom’s death, Stiles would stay home from school with her dad. They would spend the day together, just the two of them, to celebrate her life - it was a private affair. But come night, she would crawl to bed early, and he and Laura would sneak in through her window and tuck themselves into bed with her. Back then, when the wound from her mother’s death was fresh, and she’d spent all her time with them as a young girl, she smelled so much like pack that Laura could hardly be parted from her the whole day; she could practically feel Stiles’ anguish, her distress. And Derek, who had been sent to collect his sister from the Stilinski house, had always caved and crawled in with them both to soothe Stiles’ hurt. Surely, it was a day like this, when Stiles _felt_ the most, that her boyfriend would be there for her.

So Derek may have started seeing red when the asshole walked into the cafe with a pretty brunette, smelling as besotted as he looked.

The girl went to sit down as Scott moved toward the till. He started giving his order to Ben, but Derek really didn't have the patience for it that day. Scott didn’t know what he had if he wasn’t going to take care of Stiles, and it ate Derek up. He stepped forward, frowning when Scott gave him a little wave.

“Ben, can you cover for me for a few minutes? Scott, come into the back room.”

Scott’s brow furrowed and he looked back toward the girl. She waved and took out her phone, and Derek nearly hauled him over the counter by his stupid shaggy hair. “Can this wait? I’m kind of -”

“ _Now._ ”

He looked like he was going to protest, and Derek really didn’t have time for his attitude, like a beta who didn’t respond unless submission was forced. But Scott rounded the counter anyway as Derek led him to the back.

They had a soundproof office, a necessity in a business made up of primarily werewolf employees. Derek pointed to the chair, and Scott sat down without a word. "Why aren't you with Stiles? Why are you with another woman _today_ , when Stiles probably needs you the most?"

Scott blinked up at him. "Stiles? She didn't want me there today. She always wants to spend today with her dad. So I took Allison out."

Derek folded his arms over his chest in an attempt to hide the claws crawling out of their own volition. "You have the fucking audacity to do something this - this awful to her, today of all days? How could you think this is _okay_?"

"What?" Scott blinked owlishly. "Dude, what are you talking about?"

"You're cheating on Stiles on the anniversary of her mother's death!" Derek hissed, forcing himself to not launch himself Scott or anything so dramatic.

Scott blinked at him, eyes wide. "Wait... You think I'm... I'm dating Stiles? I'm not dating Stiles! Stiles is my best friend, but that's as far as it goes!"

Derek only barely stopped himself from ripping Scott's throat out. His jaw dropped just slightly. "You... what?"

"We're just friends, dude. She's not even into guys."

So apparently Scott didn't know about Stiles' bisexuality. Derek didn't really know what to make of that, but he wasn't going to out her if she didn't want to out herself. "I... I thought... fuck." Derek ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "But you always bought her coffee.

"I buy her coffee, and in exchange she helps me with school stuff. She's better at explaining things than most teachers, so I bring her here whenever she wants." Scott stood up, glancing back at the door. "So... can I go now? Allison's probably wondering what's taking so long."

He flicked his eyes toward the door, and that was enough for Scott to turn tail and bolt. Derek rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. He was... an idiot. Well and truly moronic.

Laura was right; he was just going to have to go talk to her.

Derek caught his sister's arm as she was stripping her apron to take her break. "Tonight?" Her expression was solemn and she nodded shortly.

"Yeah. We'll grab a bite when our shifts are up and head over."

That at least settled some of the unease in his stomach. Derek apologized to Ben for leaving him with the till and filling the orders, and busied himself with work for the next five hours.

Laura locked up at seven once Derek had glared all the remaining stragglers out, and she dug the keys to the Camero out of his front pocket. He lifted the boxes full of muffins and leftover pastries high enough that they didn't hit her head. "Home first. Mom made them casserole. We'll shower and bring all this over."

He nodded, thinking that at least one of them would have to use Stiles' front door with all this stuff, instead of just climbing in her window. Derek made sure Laura had packed a blueberry muffin, since those had always been Stiles' favorite.

Laura must have read his mind, because she climbed into the car and started the engine, muttering, "Her dad caught me coming in through the window the year you went off to college. I've been using the front door ever since. Don't eat any of those; we'll share them for breakfast. Stiles always gets really hungry the morning after."

"I know."

They showered quickly, and had to fend off most of their family from eating the pastries. Derek spent a good ten minutes trying to pick what he was going to wear, which was just ridiculous - why would it matter? But then Laura grabbed one of his tight black shirts with a V-neck and a pair of jeans.

"You're gonna end up in your underwear anyway," she reminded him with a little eye-roll, which was very true. Laura wrapped the pastries nicely on a serving platter, their mother shoved a few deep tupperware containers full of casserole in Derek's arms, and they were out the door into the heavy dusk. Cicadas whirred at them in the trees all the way out onto the main road.

When they pulled up to the Stilinski house, Laura parked just outside on the curb. It was something they used to avoid; apparently, that had changed. They each grabbed half the boxes and went to the door, ringing the bell. It took a full minute before John answered it. He looked haggard, but it didn't look like he had been drinking which was a good sign. He gave a nod and stepped back, letting them in.

“She’s in the shower,” he said, leaning down to accept a kiss from Laura and taking both of the offerings out of their hands. “You two been fed yet, or were you planning on doing all the feeding?”

“Mom sends her love with that casserole,” Laura said, and Derek never heard her speak as gently as she did on days like this. John smiled tiredly.

“It’s been awhile, Derek. You haven’t dropped by yet even though you’ve been home for a couple of months. I was starting to think Stiles made your homecoming up in her imagination.”

He shrugged. “Been busy.” Which was a complete lie. He would always make time for Stiles, and the sheriff probably knew that. The water upstairs turned off, so he reached into the boxes and grabbed one of the blueberry muffins. They both offered John a hug, and left him by the television. By the time they got upstairs, Stiles was already making her way to her room in Superman pajamas.

She froze, and Derek could almost completely forget that she was still supposed to be avoiding him when her dark, damp curls coiled over her forehead and neck so sweetly. Stiles’ cheeks were flushed from the hot shower, and up close, he could smell mint on her breath. Laura wrapped her in a tight hug, squeezing the breath out of her, but Stiles' eyes didn’t leave Derek’s. “You smell so nice,” Laura groaned, and finally Stiles broke Derek’s gaze, laughing quietly into Laura’s shoulder. “New shampoo?”

“New fabric softener,” Stiles corrected, patting Laura’s back.

Derek stepped forward, holding out the muffin as a peace offering. “Sorry there’s no whipped cream on it.”

Stiles huffed out a laugh, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and grabbed the muffin. She looked at it for a second, and then seemed to come to a decision. She stepped forward and threw her arms around Derek’s neck, holding on like her life depended on it. Derek wrapped his arms around her waist, smelling what Laura must have smelled. Cottony, a hint of chemical lilac, and Stiles. The girl's entire body sagged against him and she sighed, turning her forehead into his neck. The cotton of her night shirt was soft under his hands, and her body was warm underneath, and she really did smell amazing. Laura cleared her throat and he realized he was snuffling at her hair like an actual wolf. Derek pulled back, just a little, though Stiles seemed reluctant to let him go.

The three of them made their way into Stiles’ room, the big anime girl staring at them from the wall. Stiles pulled her muffin into bits and ate them, occasionally offering a piece to them which they never took. They never talked much when they came over to comfort her. It was mostly nice just being around her, which made them all feel a little bit better. Laura curled up beside her, playing with Stiles’ hair and resting her cheek on one shoulder while Derek leaned against the headrest, pulling Stiles’ legs into his lap. She had a scar on her right knee from when she was nine and Laura had dared her to try and climb the apple tree in their backyard. Stiles hadn’t even made it to the tree as she’d tripped over uncle Peter’s newly built zen garden and busted her kneecap on one of the stones inside. All the way to the hospital, she had held his hand and tried to comfort him after she blacked out for a few minutes in the back of the car, even though she was white as a sheet herself. Derek smiled a little to himself, rubbing his thumb over the scar fondly.

There was a light snoring sound from across the hall, indicating that John was already asleep. As usual, Stiles wasn’t in the mood to fall asleep. But as long as she didn’t start looking for any old photo albums to lose herself in, Derek wasn’t worried. It sucked that Stiles had to go through this, but she was strong, especially when she had Laura and Derek there with her.

“So Derek thought you and Scott were dating,” Laura giggled into Stiles’ shoulder out of absolutely nowhere, and Derek decided that that was the proper moment to start paying attention to their conversation. He glared at his sister and avoided Stiles’ wide eyes.

“Shut up,” he growled, kneading the tense muscles down Stiles’ calf until her breath hitched. “It isn’t a ridiculous assumption to make. You two are so... close.”

“Says the guy giving my bare legs a massage, dude,” Stiles laughed, a little breathlessly.

Derek just shrugged and continued to knead at her muscles. He was glad that the room was dimly lit, and that Stiles didn’t have a wolf’s sight, because he was sure that even the tips of his ears were pink at this point. Stiles moved her leg a bit, but then settled back down. “So... is that why you pushed me away? In the elevator?”

He looked up, confused. Pushed her away? He had caught her from falling, hadn’t he? From falling on him...

“Uh oh, poor puppy’s confused.”

“Shut _up_ , Laura. Stiles, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I really don’t.”

“Tell her what you perceived to have happened in the Unfortunate Elevator Incident.”

He growled at his sister, and she growled back. Stiles just looked befuddled. Derek licked his lips and ran his thumb over the soft hairs that covered Stiles’ toes. “The elevator lurched. You were gonna fall and crack your skull on my face. I caught you. Is that not what happened? Because if it’s not...”

Stiles made a sound, and then kicked him lightly with her foot. “I was trying to kiss you, dumbass. I thought you had invited me there to... Nhm, nope, I can’t do this right now. You should rub my feet too.” And she held up her foot, spreading her toes as if he wasn’t aware what a foot rub would include.

Derek’s mouth went dry, but his beta instincts must have kicked in, because even though his brain was finding it difficult to piece two and two together, his hands did exactly as they were told. Derek’s thumbs dug into the arch of Stiles’ foot and the noise she made had Derek’s limited brain power fizzling out to nothing.

“Stiles, you’re breaking him.”

“Sorry!”

Once the conversation had moved on to less emotionally stressful topics, one by one they all starting to yawn, so they shifted themselves around on Stiles’ bed. Laura faced Stiles’ front, Stiles in the middle, and Derek against her back. The small bed had them all squished together, though they used to fit on it a lot easier when they were smaller.

Laura fell asleep first, as it had been her turn to open the shop, and she had been awake since four that morning. Derek could tell that Stiles was still awake, her heartbeat far from the steady thump of unconsciousness. Slowly, so she had time to back off if she wanted, he leaned in and pressed his nose to the back of her neck. She shivered, but didn’t move away, so he took that as a good sign. “You were trying to kiss me?” he whispered, barely more than a breath, but he knew she could hear him.

“You invited me to your apartment,” she groaned softly. “You showed me preferential treatment. You gave me _free coffee_. More than once! How am I supposed to not be totally in love with you?”

There was no blip in her heartbeat when she said it, so Derek knew that she was telling the truth. He tried to hide the grin. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, it’s not like I wear tight shirts like that all the time. I never do! But I thought that I looked pretty good in it, so I wanted to wear it over to your place.” She sighed, and lightly pressed back against him. “But, I mean, I understand if you don’t feel the same. I was so embarrassed after the elevator; I thought for sure you had pushed me away.”

“I wouldn’t.” He touched her elbow, stroking the rough skin with his thumb. She could probably use some lotion. They were going to crack in the winter. He cleared his throat. “If I knew you were trying to kiss me, we would’ve never made it out of the apartment building.”

“Oh? Oh. _Ohh_.” She craned her neck as far as she could to look back at him. “Seriously? Like... seriously.”

“Like, seriously,” Derek teased, bumping his nose against her cheek. “I thought you had Scott. It was the only thing keeping me from making a move.”

“I guess I got pretty hot while you were away, huh?”

“Yeah.” Derek trailed a finger down her arm. He felt goosebumps raise on her skin, so he pulled up the blanket. “But it wasn’t just that. You had grown into a woman. I’d somehow still been picturing you as the awkward teenager who played with worms.”

She chuckled at that, and grabbed onto the blanket. “There must have been other girls who were hot and liked you though. But you said that you hadn’t liked any of them.”

“They weren’t you. But maybe we should talk about this later?” He really didn’t want to say all this when his sister was less than two feet away.

“Why? You’ll make a sexy werewolf sandwich with your sister in a teenager’s bed, but it’s too weird to talk about _feelings_?”

“I’d rather not give her blackmail material to last my entire life.”

“Okay. But we will talk about it?”

Derek brushed his thumb along her inner arm and took a chance, kissing her ear. “As long as you never stop taking my calls again.”

“Oh my god, that was _torture_ -”

“Shut uuup,” Laura groaned, rolling into Stiles and throwing her arms over them both. “Sleeeeeep.”

Stiles chuckled, and finally settled down into the pillow. But before she went to sleep, she reached back and grabbed Derek’s arm, bringing it over her hip and tangling their fingers together.

//

They were all woken up by Stiles’ shrill alarm clock. She groaned and had to drape herself over Laura to turn it off. Laura whined and buried her face in Stiles’ chest, making the human gasp and giggle, tousling her long, black hair. “Rise and shine.”

“ _No_.”

“Shut up,” Derek growled, pulling Stiles snugly against him and trying valiantly to fall back asleep.

But once Stiles was awake, it was normally very difficult to get her to fall back to sleep. She was wiggling, trying to get out, and the movement was doing something to Derek that he really didn’t want to happen when his sister was in the bed. Finally he let Stiles go, pulling the blanket back over himself as she got out.

“Come on you guys, I wanna make pancakes and bacon! Don’t you want pancakes and bacon?”

“We brought pastries so we could all sleep in,” Laura croaked, making a grabby motion for Stiles. “Come back, puny mortal. Your boobs are so comfy.”

“Aww, thanks! Yours are pretty awesome, too.”

Laura slumped over Derek’s form and closed her eyes. “I wanted to prove that I’d follow you anywhere, Stiles,” she yawned, “but I cannot. Come back to bed. Baby. Sweetheart.”

When Stiiles realized that they were impervious to her puppy dog eyes, she sighed and looked out the window, and both Derek and Laura groaned, knowing they were caught. “Fiiiiiine.” Laura said, and literally rolled off the bed. “I call first shower.” She stalked out of the room, leaving the bedroom door wide open.

Derek looked over at Stiles, standing there all rumpled in her Superman PJs and messy hair. “I think your dad has coffee on already.”

“Can you smell it, wolf boy?” she asked, perching on the bed beside him. He snuffled, curling an arm and the blanket around her waist.

“No. My coffee senses are tingling.”

She cackled, ruffling his hair. “That’s awesome. What else is tingling?”

He rolled his eyes and decided not to answer that. “Do you want to get dressed? Because I could go downstairs and wait.”

“Nope, I’m fine in my jammies ‘til noon, at least. Come on, I know the coffee won’t be as good as yours but it’s still coffee. Let’s gooooo.” She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him out of bed. Of course she couldn’t really pull him out, but he stood up anyway. Derek saw her bite her lip to repress a smile and he tried to glare, woefully aware that it was only 20% effective after he’d just woken up.

“What?”

“You’re just so adorably ruffled,” she said, cupping his face in her hands and lolling it back and forth. “You’ve got this sexy stubble and messy hair and wrinkly clothes and angry eyes... you’re like an irate bird.” He bared his fangs, and she snorted, lifting the corners of his lips with her thumbs. “It’s endearing!”

“I really don’t see how being called a bird is endearing,” Derek complained, and tried to smooth out some of his clothes. But then he gave up and looked at Stiles. “Would you mind if I kissed you right now?”

“I would be a little sad if you didn’t.”

“I’ve got morning breath,” he pointed out, looping his arms lazily around her waist. It was pretty easy, since she was nearly as tall as he was. No bending effort was required on his part.

“So do I?”

“And stubble.”

“Yeah,” she said with a goofy grin. “It’s ridiculously hot.”

“You know there’s a good chance this is gonna end up an intense makeout and your dad is absolutely going to know who gave his daughter stubble burn.”

  
She laughed and leaned up to kiss him.

 


	4. Chapter 4

When he left Stiles’ house, Derek didn’t go straight home. Instead, he visited almost every corner store he could think of in the town. Part of him knew it was cheesy - almost too cheesy to be real. Stiles would call him out on that. But before she did, Derek knew that she was going to spend the longest time being totally giddy with amusement. She had a sentimental heart, and he knew it would make her smile.

 

The only store that he could find anything resembling the candy of their childhood had ring-type candies in stock, but they were weird and bulky, not at all like the ones he remembered, so he held it off as plan B if he wasn’t able to find it on the final frontier of shopping: the internet.

 

He stole Laura’s laptop the second he arrived at his family home and pulled up Amazon, where it only took him thirty seconds to find what he was looking for. Derek ordered the box without a second thought on rush delivery, because he’d spent the last couple of months pining after someone he could have had all along; there was no way he was wasting another five-to-ten business days to properly woo her.

 

While he was waiting for them to arrive, Stiles didn’t seem to want to leave him alone. She did her homework at the cafe every day after school, waving at him whenever she caught his eye. She forced him to get ice cream with her on the weekend. She showed up at his apartment unannounced with takeout and one season too many of Buffy. Not that he minded. Derek loved spending time with her like this again, all the comraderie of childhood friendship with the little added bonus of reciprocated sexual tension on the side, but Derek was not a patient man. The waiting was killing him.

 

When the package came to the door Monday, he barely paused long enough to check that his name was on it before stealing the keys to the Camero and hopping inside.  _You at home?_ he texted, almost as a forethought as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

 

_You know it. Why? U gonna be my booty call?_

 

Derek didn’t even bother answering before he drove over (a couple of miles unnecessarily over the speed limit), and hopped out. Her window was open, and he spent a good minute debating whether he should take the door or not. But then Stiles stuck her head out of the window and looked down at him, waving him inside.

 

He climbed the tree that led to her window and eased himself onto the awning, taking in Stiles' amused glance. She leaned out the window on her elbows. "You're absolutely ridiculous, you know that?"

 

"You didn't look like you were about to go get the door any time soon," he responded lamely, and she stood back so he could stick one leg through the window.

 

Stiles sat down on her bed, kicking her legs out. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this secret meeting? And I hope I do mean pleasure,” she said with a devilish wink.

 

Derek took out the box from under his arm and tossed it on the bed. “I got you something.”

 

 

“Oh geez,” she laughed, picking up the box and rustling it by her ear. “Well, if that’s sexy lingerie, it’s probably gonna be seriously uncomfortable...feels too light for something kinky...”

 

“I knew leaving it in the shipping package would only come back to haunt me.”

 

“Shh, I’m having fun here.”

 

“Stiles.”

 

She rolled her eyes theatrically and tore off the light brown wrapping paper, a grin blooming on her face as the box was revealed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

 

Derek looked out the window so he wouldn't see the look on her face. As excited as he'd been to give it to her, it was almost daunting how suddenly shy he felt. "I just thought you might like them. It's no big deal really."

 

The bed squeaked as she stood up, and then Derek was enveloped in a hug, a kiss being pressed to his chin. "Does this mean the engagement is back on?"

 

"There are like, forty in there, so I should hope so."

 

Stiles laughed and lunged, making him stumble back to catch the legs that were suddenly around his waist as a pair of ecstatic lips became well acquainted over and over with his face. He knew he was probably bright red, and she delighted in it. "I'd happily marry you forty times. Derek Stilinski has a nice ring to it."

 

Derek rolled his eyes, and put his hands on her butt so he could hold her up easier. “You think I’m taking your last name? If anything it’ll be Hale-Stilinski, and our kids will hate us forever.”

 

“Of course you’re taking my last name.” She squeezed him with her thighs, a playful smile on her lips. “You get my name, and my ass, and apparently my little wolfy babies. Compromise.”

 

He swallowed heavily and pressed his nose to her neck.

 

“What’s up... talking about babies makes you go silly? Or is that my ass?”

 

Derek rubbed his face against her neck, and leaned her against the wall for support. “Just... everything. I can’t believe you exist some days.” But then he put her down, and grabbed one wrapped candy out of the box. “Come on, we might as well do this right.” He opened it up, the bright purple Ring Pop in hand. Raising his eyebrows meaningfully, Derek lowered himself to one knee. Though she tried to play it off by dramatically pressing both hands to her heart and gasping, Derek could see the flush rise from her neck. “Stiles.”

 

“Der-bear.”

 

He glared and she nodded, a stern look on her face. “Right. We’re being serious. Sorry.”

 

“You are the wind beneath my wings.”

 

Stiles’ laughter came out as an unholy hybrid between a snort and the sound a strangled swan probably made. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. Her voice was high-pitched like barely withheld laughter when she squeaked, “Go on.”

 

“And I would love it if you would be my girlfriend,” he finished. It was anticlimactic, even by his standards, but Stiles was positively giddy.

 

“Yes! I will be your girlfriend!” She bent down, kissing him. “For a bit there I thought you were actually going to ask me to marry you.”

 

Derek shook his head, pushing the Ring Pop onto her finger. “Trust me, when I pop the question, I won’t be using candy. I’m definitely not that cheap.”

 

Stiles licked the hard candy, dead set on turning her mouth blue. “I don’t know, I’d say this was pretty damn romantic. Where did you find these? I’ve been looking for them for years. And a whole box! There are like, a billion in there!”

 

He stood and gently pulled on her hand to take the candy from her mouth and kissed her. She tasted unbelievably sweet, and when he touched the skin at the small of her back, she twitched and giggled. “Wait -  _when_ you ask? So you’re planning to ask me to marry you.”

 

“Probably,” he mumbled, skimming his nails over the warm skin above her jeans just to make her squirm. “I’ve got to call dibs first before Laura gets any funny ideas.”

 

“Dibs? And you think that if I did like Laura like that, you calling dibs would change anything?” Stiles said, raising an eyebrow and leaning back a little so she could look at him. “Besides, isn’t Laura dating someone already?”

 

Now it was Derek’s turn to look surprised. “She is? Why hasn’t she told anyone yet?”

 

“I don’t... what?” She blinked and licked at her candy inquisitively. It was distracting. “I guess not then, if you don’t know. I just assumed. She’s gorgeous, she’s fun, she’s outgoing, she’s smart, she’s flirty as hell, so I guess I just thought...?”

 

“Are you really going to stand here licking that Ring Pop like that while talking about my sister?”

 

“Why?” She licked her lips, slowly, and it would have been agonizing if her tongue weren’t blue. “Should I be talking about licking something else?” She wrapped her lips around the pop, sucking slowly.

 

Derek groaned and stepped forward, pulling the ring out of her mouth. “Maybe you should.”

 

“Maybe I will.” Stiles licked her lips with her blue tongue, and then slipped away. To lock the door.

 

Derek took the sweet from her finger and set it on top of its wrapper beside her bed before he dragged Stiles close and kissed her.

 

Or devoured her mouth, maybe was a better choice of words. He’d defend himself with the knowledge that he’d been wanting to do this with Stiles nonstop for the past two months, so of course finally being able to would result in him losing his finesse. He didn’t really care at that point, because Stiles’ lips were warm and soft and inviting, and she made the cutest little noise when he licked her mouth open.

 

Stiles grabbed the hem of Derek’s shirt and pulled him backwards to the bed, plopping down when the back of her legs hit the edge. Derek kneeled over her, one knee on each side of her hips, and he bent his head down so they could continue kissing. She had either been watching a lot of questionably appropriate romance movies while he was away, or it was years of porn-watching that must have made her conclude that lightly sinking her teeth into his bottom lip and tugging was a thing. And in about .02 seconds flat it totally was. Derek shoved her down flat the moment she released him and attacked her neck to see how she liked the biting (hoping that she really, really did) when Stiles made a sound that went straight to his dick. He could _taste_ it against his mouth.

 

“My dad,” Stiles croaked desperately, fisting a hand in his hair. “Bruises. Derek!”

 

He pulled away from her neck at the reminder because, hey, the sheriff had a gun and was not afraid to use it. Derek pulled up and looked down at her, thinking how insane it was that they were doing this.

 

Stiles grinned up at him, and started pulling her shirt up and over her head. Derek’s mouth went dry. “Below the neck, buddy,” she said, gesturing toward her whole torso. “Bruise away!”

 

“Stiles, you’re...”

 

“Unfairly hot? Surprisingly chesty? Practically perfect in every way?”

 

“Seventeen.” He grimaced.

 

“And you’re twenty-three. Now that we all know our ages, feel free to hickey away.” She grinned at him, and tossed the shirt on the floor to be dealt with later.

 

Derek groaned and closed his eyes, resting his forehead on her shoulder. “No, Stiles, I don’t feel good. About this. I mean, not. Not _this_. You’re wonderful. But you  _are_ underage, and your dad’s a cop, and- shit I’m not good at this.”

 

“Chillax, Der,” she huffed, rubbing a hand up and down his forearm. “I actually predicted this might happen. You’re so... decent.”

 

“That shouldn’t sound like an insult,” he mumbled against her skin. Stiles snorted.

 

“It is when you get a poor girl all hot and bothered and then decide she’s a couple months too young. But okay, I get it. Big bad werewolf’s scared of my daddy’s shotgun. We could almost be a country song.” She blew cool air against his ear and smirked at his face when he lifted it from her shoulder. “Want me to look up California sex laws to see what we can and can’t do?”

 

He huffed a laugh against her skin. “What, do you think there is a list of sexual acts and which ones are legal and which ones aren’t? I think we should just set some... boundaries. Decide together how far we are willing to go before you turn eighteen.”

 

“Uh. You really want me to answer that? Because I’ve been willing to go pretty far with you basically since I discovered sex was a thing.” She paused at his widened eyes. “Okay, maybe not that early. I was fifteen at least. But I want to have so much sex with you it’s not even funny. If discretion is your worry, don’t sweat it - I can be discreet. Dad only knows about one out of the seven sex toys that have passed through his front door, and that was a total accident, ‘cause he thought he was getting his Gilmore Girls box set around the same time.”

 

He shook his head, a grin spreading on his face. “It’s not just about him finding out. Stiles, in the eyes of the law, you're still the little girl who snuck into our backyard to make mudpies and torment the squirrels. If we can wait until your birthday, it will at least make me feel a little less like a pervert.” And there would be less of a chance that Laura would try to take his head off. Derek put a hand on Stiles’ knee and looked into her eyes, suddenly serious. “Werewolves don’t necessarily mate for life, you know that. But, it still is a big deal, and a part of me... wants to make sure that this isn’t just sex. That we can go that long without having sex.”

 

“Uh, hello, we’ve gone my entire life without having sex,” she pointed out, wrinkling her nose. “And I’m not the kid I was when your sister still babysat me. I find it a little insulting that you’d think that. Less insulting when you bring up mating for life, which suggests that you’ve been  _thinking_ of mating for life and put me in that equation, but still pretty insulted. I’m not a child, so if you start using kid gloves with me, I’m gonna get pissed.”

 

Derek surged forward, pulling her in for a kiss. He pushed against her, thrusting her tongue into her mouth to taste the last remains of the dark blue candy. It was definitely meant to prove a point, and not at all just because he wanted to taste her tongue. Then he pulled back. “I didn’t mean it to be insulting. You’re not the little kid you were, and I’m not the boy I was, but we  _were_ those people, and I can’t really think of someone the same after I’ve seen them with snot dripping down their face. I need this to be more than sex, Stiles, and I can’t really explain it but I want us to wait until your birthday.”

 

She narrowed her eyes. “On most guys, the sentiment would be sweet. But I’ve wanted to bone you pretty bad for years, so it’s more annoying than anything. But okay. No penis-to-vagina intercourse until my birthday. But we can still act like the age-old cliche that oral and mutual masturbation aren’t sex, right?”

 

He may have made a noise like a strangled puppy. “I- I don’t know...”

 

“Derek, you just almost proposed to me with candy, how is that not third base worthy? And we’ll still wait till my birthday for the all important game winning home run.” She leaned back, lowering her hand to run along Derek’s side, hoping that may change his mind.

 

“Baseball analogies,” he choked. “Really?”

 

“I can be literal if you want. Throw around a couple ‘cock’s and ‘fuck’s. Like, on my birthday, when you finally stuff your dick inside me -”

 

Derek had to cover her mouth with his hand, baring his teeth.

 

“Stiles,” he growled, “I swear to god, if you keep this up, I’ll tell your dad about the other six toys in your drawer.”

 

“Lock box in the closet disguised as a dictionary,” she corrected when he slowly released her. “One of the big ones you have to use both hands to open. I thought of getting the Bible one, but I thought that might be a little too weird.”

 

He closed his eyes, which was a bad idea because then he was picturing it, which was... definitely not a good way to keep this conversation on track. “It’s only a month and a half away. Please wait that long? It would really make my conscience settle.”

 

“Okay. Okay. We’ll wait. But seriously, we can’t do... anything?” she whined, falling back. Her breasts rose and fell when she sighed, her plain black bra cupping them snugly. Derek wanted to bite them, even though he’d essentially exiled himself from it for the next five weeks. “Can we make out? Can we give each other a little bad touchin’?”

 

“I don’t think I would be able to keep myself from touching you completely. Or from making out.” Derek laid down beside her. He ran a fingertip lightly over her freckled stomach, watching goosebumps slowly rise. “Are you cold?”

 

“No, it just kind of tickles. But it feels good.”

 

He scooted closer, nosing along the soft line of her shoulder before he kissed it, gentle little presses until he reached her neck. She squirmed and laughed, baring her throat so easily that it might have been the death of him. “No oral,” he finally said, stroking her side and under her belly button. There was soft, pale hair there, and he didn’t know why it made him feel so fond, but it really, really did. “My parents would know. Laura would know. It gives off a distinct scent when you exchange certain fluids.”

 

“That should sound gross but I think it’s pretty damn hot,” Stiles said, grinning, but then her smile fell. “Wait, does that mean you can tell when anyone’s had sex? That is so weird! Why would anyone want to know that?”

 

Derek rolled his eyes, nosing along her neck. “I try not to think about it much.”

 

"I bet you think about it a lot, though. On certain people."

 

"Are you really sure you want to talk about this?"

 

"Why not?"

 

"We'd probably broach certain topics you might not like broached."

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like, I know the day you started masturbating."

 

She jerked back, eyes agog. "You're fucking kidding me."

 

"Summertime. You were almost forteen."

 

"Dude!"

 

Derek shrugged, looking at her. "Told you that you probably don't want to talk about it. Do you want to put a shirt back on? I would hate for your dad to come in here and get the wrong idea."

 

"The right idea. But fine, shirt going back on."

 

He was almost mournful to see all that pale, freckled skin go, but it was probably for the best. Derek kissed her throat and rumbled contentedly to smell that no scent but his and Stiles could be found. "Won't be forever. Just a couple months."

 

"Yeah yeah. I'll be counting the days. I'm really glad my birthday isn't in summer like Scott's. We would have to wait almost a whole year!" Stiles put her hand on Derek's thigh, rubbing it a bit. "If my birthday was farther away, would you get fed up and fuck me before it?"

 

"Probably," he admitted. His body reacted without his permission, hips tilting forward, dick twitching in interest. "Stiles."

 

"Sorry," she snickered, and she totally wasn't. "Now that I know I turn you on, it's like... a superpower!"

 

"If superheroes flashed the villains to get them to forfeit," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I can hear your dad's cruiser, so I should probably go."

 

"Or you could stay. He likes you, so maybe we should tell him about us?"

 

"You want to?" He pulled at her dark curls. "You know he'd give us the same talk we just went through."

 

"So is that a... no?"

 

"It's not," Derek said slowly. "I don't mind. He's gonna find out eventually; just because we aren't having sex doesn't mean I'm going to keep our relationship quiet."

 

"Aww, can we shout it from the rooftops?"

 

He rolled his eyes, pulling Stiles up off the bed. "Something like that. Come on, lets go downstairs." He did a quick check to make sure he wasn't too suspiciously rumpled. Stiles seemed to notice his train of thought and smoothed his hair down. Derek grimaced at the sight of at least two clearly visible hickeys and slowly rising stubble burn marring her fair neck. "We'd never be able to keep this secret if we wanted to."

 

"Nope!" she chirped, rubbing his face with both hands like one might to a dog. "Come on, new boyfriend. Come see my shotgun-toting daddy."

 

They went downstairs just as John opened the door. He didn’t look really surprised to see Derek there at all, with his car in the driveway. “Pizza for dinner?”

 

Stiles looked sternly over at him. “With all that grease? Why don’t we go to Subway or something, get some veggies on whole wheat!”

 

“I would get meatball and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

 

“Don’t challenge me, father mine. You’re only getting one pleasant surprise today.”

 

John looked over at Derek. “You didn’t get her pregnant, did you?”

 

“Dad!” Stiles choked, and Derek felt the color drain from his face. “Oh my god! You can’t just say stuff like that!”

 

“That’s some pretty violent denial.”

 

Derek stepped forward, and grabbed Stiles’ hand. “She’s not pregnant. But we are dating. And I want you to know that we plan on waiting to do... We're following the California statutory laws, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

 

John glanced between the two of them, then down to their joined hands. “You convinced my daughter to wait? Obviously you have more argumentative skills than I gave you credit for. Now I want Hawaiian, how about you two?”

 

Stiles blinked. “Wait. No threatening Derek with your guns?”

 

“He’s a goddamn werewolf, Stiles,” John snorted, unclipping his holsters and hanging the belt up with his jacket. “What the hell can I do to threaten him?”

 

“You’re not gonna even try? This is my first boyfriend, Dad. The least you could do is pretend you’ll hunt him down and hide the body if he hurts me.”

 

Her dad groaned as he picked up the phone. “If I did, wouldn’t you just say that you can defend yourself?"

 

"Well... yeah, I mean, of course, but it's the principle of the thing!"

 

John glanced at wide-eyed werewolf. "Derek, do I really need to say anything to you about this?”

 

“No sir. I’ll protect Stiles with my life.”

 

“See? You’re in good hands. Oh, and Derek? I know you have good hearing, you can tell when someone's nearby, so don’t let me walk in on anything I'd regret seeing.”

 

“This is so upsetting,” Stiles said, completely bemused. “This might be my last chance for a meet-the-dad thing, unless you fuck this up, Derek-”

 

“Language,” John warned, and Stiles scoffed.

 

“If you can’t play the proper dad, I don’t have to adhere to your arbitrary swearing squick.”

 

“Just for that,” John said, “I’m getting extra garlic knots.”

 

“Don’t you dare! Derek!” Derek lifted his hands in surrender. “Nuh uh. Whether he says it or not, Dad totally thinks you have to participate in this family now that you’re potentially in it. You have to start making him eat healthy, too.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes and went to sit down at the table. “My mom has already offered to give him the bite, if you’re really worried about his health. She’s offered to give you _both_ the bite.” Because there was no way Stiles would take it without her father. She hadn't even been able to keep their secret from him for more than a few years.

 

Stiles went slackjawed and her father nearly dropped the phone. Derek could hear the woman on the other end of the line answer, but John’s attention was on him. Derek gave the phone a meaningful glance and while John stuttered out his order, Stiles spread out her arms in a  _Seriously, Derek? This is a bomb you drop on me NOW?_ gesture. He shrugged and watched as she did one of her full-body eye rolls before joining him at the table. “Why would your mom offer something like that? Isn’t it supposed to be, like... a gift? You can’t just go around biting people willy-nilly.”

 

“You’re practically pack. She knows how Laura and I feel about you. It just makes sense to make you officially pack, and you wouldn’t need to leave your father.” He wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her closer. “It  _is_ a gift. And honestly I thought you already knew it was on the table. Stiles, you were  _invited to our family barbeque_.”

 

“It’s a barbecue, Derek.” She patted his cheeks. “That’s not exactly the most inclusive family bonding activity.”

 

“You ran naked with us on the eve before the full moon when you were nine.”

 

She grinned. “That was pretty awesome. Can I do it again?”

 

“If you want, you could run  _as_ one of us.”

 

Stiles looked down to the floor, biting her lip. “Look, it’s a lot to think about, you know? Just... give me a while, okay? I will decide to if I want to, but for now, I just... no. At least wait 'til my birthday for me to have to think about it. I mean, it would be kind of hypocritical to say I’m too young for sex but not for deciding to become a different _species_."

 

“Take all the time you need. The offer will never be revoked.”

 

Her big brown eyes softened and she smiled. “We could discuss terms and conditions, though,” Stiles murmured, squeezing his hand. “Like, if Dad were shot by some criminal gang, your mom has all the permission in the world to turn him.”

 

“Are you making more decisions for my health without my input?” John asked, ruffling his daughter’s hair until a mass of curls fell over her forehead.

 

“For your own good! I worry about you!” Stiles jumped up and grabbed her father in a hug, shaking him around. “Beacon Hills is getting bigger every day! It’s only a matter of time before people start forming dangerous gangs.”

 

“I somehow imagine it'll be awhile before Beacon Hills gets a gang. Besides, the resident werewolves might deal with them before I get a chance to.”

 

“Shut up, Daddy, and let me set up precautionary supernatural measures to extend your life.”

 

He patted her elbow. “Yes, dear. Make some coffee, would you? I’m gonna go grab a shower. I smell like paperwork and excruciating boredom.”

 

“No, just the paper. And raspberry donuts,” Derek offered, examining his nails. Glancing up, John was giving him a look of betrayal, and Stiles one of righteous indignation. “That’s it - no pizza for you!”

 

There was a mumbled, “Traitor,” that only Derek could hear before John trudged upstairs like a sullen child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter begins quite a bit of hanky panky - TOTALLY LEGAL hanky panky.


	5. Chapter 5

When he stepped out of the shower and had a good, long listen, Derek knew something was up. He could hear it in the distance - it was faint, but if Derek concentrated, it was clear as day. The normally rhythmic thud of Stiles’ heart was mounting in tempo, and his own leapt when a thousand terrible possibilities flashed through his mind. Derek barely managed to stumble into clean clothes before he was out the apartment door and leaping down the staircase five steps at a time.

 

He almost started running, but thought better of it and hopped into the Camaro. Derek probably broke more than a few speeding laws on the way there, and Stiles’ heartbeat was still faster than normal when he arrived. As he rounded the corner onto her street, he could hear other things from inside the house. John’s steady snoring was at least a good sign, but he could also hear a distinctly mechanical sound that was still present even after he turned the car off. Derek wasted no time scaling the tree outside Stiles’ window. It was dark inside, but he knew she was there, could hear her heart race, the little hitches in her breath, and he wondered if maybe it was the nightmares. Stiles used to have them all the time after her mother’s passing; it was the cause of her insomnia for so many years. He hadn’t known she still had them.

 

Gently, Derek slid the window open, and the second he climbed inside, it hit him like a wave. The scent was heady, musky, and it covered the room like a blanket. Stiles squeaked, and in the dark, she hastily clamped her naked legs together and with a bit of fumbling, the mechanical buzzing stopped. “What the  _fuck_ , Derek!” she whispered manically.

 

The scent of her arousal actually peaked, and Derek swallowed. “I-I thought something was wrong... I - _shit_ \- what are you doing?”

 

“What do you think I was doing?!” She fumbled and eventually turned on the bedside light, revealing her pink cheeks, bare torso, and part of her leg that was sticking out from under the sheet. “This is your fault, you know. If you didn’t want to wait then I wouldn’t have to do this myself.”

 

Derek didn’t know whether to cry or just turn around and crawl back out the window. He thought about doing both. He did neither.

 

“Not that I probably won’t keep doing it for the rest of my life,” Stiles was saying, talking through his mental crisis. “I mean, come on. You have, what, one go? Two, tops? I mean, some girls are satisfied after that, but I’ve been known to come nearly four times per session, depending on how much time I have to do it, and by ‘I’ve been known’ I mean I know and now you know, but seriously. My bunny is my best friend.”

 

He really didn’t want to ask, and he really didn’t know why he did. “Bunny?”

 

Stiles pulled a long purple toy out from under the covers, with a little plastic extension of what could vaguely be interpreted as a rabbit on the side, its ears sticking up. And it smelled -oh god- it smelled like her juices. Derek put his hand over his nose, trying not to breathe in too deeply, because the scent of it was driving him insane. Insane was a bad thing then he wanted so desperately to have her, regardless of the rules he'd put in place. Stiles looked affronted though, and shoved it back under the covers, cheeks darkened with blotchy red. “Thanks,” she grumbled. “Still in high school, remember? I don’t exactly need reminding from my adult boyfriend that sexy secretions don’t smell like roses, okay?”

 

“No, it doesn’t smell like roses. It smells like want, and desire, and... you. I'm really trying not to jump you right now.” He had to grip the windowsill so that he wouldn’t get into the bed and do a better job then the  _bunny_. Stiles gaped at him, and fuck, that mouth. It looked like she’d been biting it. Probably trying to hold back noises. Derek would bet anything that she was more than vocal when the right buttons were pushed.

 

“Uh... wow. Derek, um. I. I really need to... I was pretty close, and now you’ve sort of both taken the edge off, and made me even hornier.. at the same time? So I’m... I’m kind of ready to go here. Looking at you is making it worse. Better? Worse? Either way, if I don’t touch myself soon, I might cry, so...”

 

He stopped himself for a good few seconds, but then he let go of the windowsill, stepping forward. “Fuck it.” Derek climbed into the bed, heard Stiles’ heartbeat rise again. He leaned forward, kissing her, and ran a rough hand up her stomach, and cupped one of her breasts. He swallowed the noise she made and pulled back to stare down at her beneath the covers. Stiles was bare, and most of her body was hidden beneath him and the blankets, but her nipples were red and swollen, almost like... “Do you...” he started to ask, trying not to growl.

 

“They’re sensitive,” she hummed, looking down herself. “It can be pretty awesome.”

 

Derek couldn’t help the growl that came out of his mouth at that. He ducked down, taking one of the pink nubs into his mouth. He heard the sound of Stiles gasping, and then a muffled moan that went straight to his cock. He glanced up to see her mouth open, and her eyes closed. “I still plan on not having sex until your birthday.”

 

“You’re sucking my nipples and humping my leg,” she laughed quietly, the noise cut short by a little hitch of breath. “This is sex. I don’t know who told you otherwise, but they’re dead wrong, buddy.”

 

He closed his eyes, resting his head on her collar bone. “You know what I mean. So tell me what you were doing with the ‘bunny’. Exactly what you were doing.” And this close, he could smell how wet she was, not just from the vibrator, but coming up from under the covers, making him achingly hard. She licked her lips and shifted under the covers. If the sheet wasn’t separating them, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Probably nothing good. “Yeah, uh, actually... if we’re not gonna have sex, do you mind if we carry on this conversation while my bunny’s working away? Because, I’ve gotta say, it’s got three speeds of vibe action and there’s this thing that reaches my g-spot and that’s all I can think about right now.”

 

Derek reached out to the side table and grabbed the vibrator, shoving it further away. “Later. Why waste the batteries?” He pulled the blanket down, and listened for any indication that Stiles wanted him to stop. It seemed to be quite the opposite, though.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned, because the second the sheets were pulled away, the scent of her sex grew thicker in the air, and he dropped down to mouth at her stomach, her ribs, her hips. She gasped and twitched, her toes spasming over the backs of his calves.

 

“This is sex,” she whispered when his hands crawled up her thighs, “this has to be sex.”

 

“Shut up. Until I have to wear a condom, this isn’t sex.” He kissed at her belly button, one hand reaching up to tweak a nipple. He was so close, he could smell everything about her. Derek used his free hand to trail over her trimmed crotch, the short coarse hair scratching at his fingers. She whined behind her brutally bitten lips.

“Bullshit,” Stiles gasped when he sucked a mark into the skin inside her hip bone, “you’re just saying that so you can do this. I think I need to give you the sex talk, Derek Hale. When a human and a werewolf love each other very much...”

 

“Do you want me to continue or not? If you insist that this is sex, then I have to stop and wait for your birthday. Is that what you want?” he asked, pausing his kisses and his hands completely.

 

She opened her mouth to retort, but then seemed to think better of it, and mimed zipping it shut. He smiled sardonically and leaned down to push her thighs further apart. Stiles spread them to accommodate him immediately, and he leaned down to nose at the crease between her thighs and her torso. “Tell me that you want this,” he said impatiently, sucking a bruise into her thigh.

 

“Are you insane? Of course I want this. Carry on. Tally-ho!”

 

He groaned, and ran a finger up her crease, feeling the wetness between her thighs. Stiles let out a stutter when he reached the small nub of her clit, and he rubbed at it, using her wetness to slick it up.

 

She was already so hot and wet and open when he explored her sex, and Derek wondered exactly how long the toy was inside her, how much she used it, how much she could take. He licked a slow line up from her entrance to the tip of her clit, and the sound that came from her mouth was one Derek had never heard before, but he definitely wanted to hear it again. Her flavor coated his tongue and he felt drunk, mouthing at her like a man starved, which only made the noises grow louder and higher.

 

Derek reached a hand up to play with her nipples, wanting Stiles to get as much pleasure as possible out of this. He could feel his cock throbbing in his pants, but he didn’t want to take it out, this time being mainly about her. Besides, it wasn’t like listening to her squeaks and strangled groans while her body throbbed with arousal under his tongue was a hardship to endure. “Y’know,” she whispered, reaching down to pull at his hair, “we could just... just nix the whole no sex thing, since this is definitely sex, and we’re already having it, so maybe you could... could grab one of the condoms in my drawer and we could both benefit from this arrangement, hmm?”

 

At that he pulled away completely, ignoring the enticing smells. To stop the want, he got off the bed entirely. “If this is sex, then it's a form of _rape_ in the eyes of the law. I’m a sex offender right now. Like-” He had to swallow past a lump in his throat, a lump that normally put a stop to any words that wanted to follow, but he needed Stiles to understand. “Like Kate was, with me. I... I can’t do that, Stiles.”

 

Stiles scrambled up, nearly tripping over the sheets in her haste, and stood an awkward foot away. She opened her mouth a couple of times, arms reaching out and falling to her sides. Derek wondered if she’d forgotten she was stark naked, or if she just didn’t care. “Derek, you know that’s ridiculous,” she finally whispered sternly. “This is nothing like that. Not even a single similarity. She did what she did because she’s a twisted psychopath who saw a hormonal kid and went through him to try and  _murder people_. This?” She gestured wildly back and forth between them. “This is two people who are fond as hell of each other who just want to express their feelings through hot, sloppy sex. Why the hell isn’t my consent magically valid until I’m eighteen when that’s only a couple months away? Because I adore you, you ridiculous, sulky puppy, and I just want to do awful things with that body.”

 

“I feel like you’re confused - was that a pep talk or were you trying to talk dirty to me?”

 

She shrugged. “Which one will be more likely to get us back into bed?”

 

Derek gave a small, practically nonexistent grin, and then shook his head. “No, you were right; this is still sex, and it’s still illegal. I’m sorry Stiles, it’s not an issue with consent. Your dad is the sheriff, you should know better than anyone that even if both people are willing, the law is still there.”

 

Mouth open, Stiles looked completely crestfallen. “Wait... so... you’re just gonna leave me like this?” she whimpered. “I’m seriously two minutes away from an orgasm, and you’re just gonna... poof! Jump out the window? Please don’t do this to me.” She looked forlornly at the bed. “Your mouth is like magic. Please just continue to be a magician for two minutes? Bunny looks so cold and unfeeling now that I’ve had your mouth.”

 

He set his face, looking stern, when the reality was that he was anything but. “I want to, Stiles you  _know_ I want to. But you’re right. I was being hypocritical. No sex means no sex.”

 

“I never said you were a... fine. Fine. Then just...” She bit her lip. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. No means no, even though I think I might die knowing how your mouth feels after a taste.”

 

“I was the one having the taste,” he reminded her, and she punched his shoulder with a quiet snicker. Derek grabbed her wrist before she could take it back and ran his lips over the soft skin. Her pheromones were strong there, but he wanted to taste it anyway. Her eyes were nearly completely pupil as she watched the gesture. “I respect your consent. And I’m going to feel like I’ve left unfinished business if you don’t come tonight,” he murmured, and yep, there was the spike in her heartbeat he’d been waiting to hear. “So what can we do that meets both our terms of agreement?”

 

She grinned at him and gave him a peck on the lips. “Well... come back to bed, and we’ll see what we can do? I promise I won’t try to get you to do anything you don’t want to. Or want to but feel morally obligated not to do.”

 

Derek went willingly to the bed, and they both laid down on their sides, facing each other. Stiles had the jackrabbit in her hands, having grabbed it from the bedside table. “I’m just gonna reintroduce myself with bunny here, and you’re free to do... whatever you like.” She rolled onto her back and pulled the sheets up over the both of them, and Derek watched as her body arched for a moment as Stiles fiddled with it beneath the white cover, and then her body relaxed. Slowly, Stiles pulled one of her knees up, and a gentle electric hum buzzed under the sheet. Her eyes fluttered closed and Derek just... had to touch. He reached out and splayed his palm over the heat of her stomach and Stiles shifted, licking her lips. “‘S it cool if I imagine it’s you?” she murmured. “Not that I think you have a vibrating dick, but...”

 

“Yeah. I mean no, I don’t have a vibrating dick, but you can. Imagine. If you want.” He swallowed, watching her face. Derek breathed through his nose, forcing himself not to reach down and help her with it. Instead he leaned forward, pressing their lips together. She opened her mouth to him instantly, and he shifted, pressing up against her side. Stiles’s face was hot and she whined softly, tilting her pelvis upward. “Talk to me,” she stuttered, “I’ve imagined this so many times... please, say anything. I could come listening to your grocery list.”

 

He moved to mouth at her ear, and started whispering in a deep voice, “I can smell everything about you, I can smell how horny you are. How much you want me. How much you love having your nipples played with.” He said as he reached for one, rolling it between calloused fingers. “I can hear your heart beat, the blood pumping through your veins, and it sounds fucking amazing.”

 

“You’re gonna make me come,” she squeaked, bumping her forehead against his temple.

 

“On your birthday,” he practically purred, “you’re gonna straddle my face and I’m gonna eat you out until your thighs can’t hold you up anymore.” Her hips twitched and she let out a little gasp. “Then I’m gonna stretch you open with your favorite toy and fuck you until -”

 

“Coming!” she breathed, letting out a little high noise. “Coming, coming, oh, oh...!”

 

She arched up, eyes closing tight, and then fell back to the bed, twitching slightly. The scent was stronger, wafting from under the covers, and Derek buried his face in her shoulder. “I can’t wait until I can do that to you.”

 

Her hips stuttered for another few seconds and then she reached down, whimpering a little, and then the faint hum died down and all Derek could hear was Stiles’ racing heart and her quick, rapid breaths. “You already totally did,” she laughed, clumsily shoving the shiny, wet toy in its box by her bed, mumbling something about cleaning it later as she turned to nestle against Derek. “You’re gonna have blue balls like crazy,” she said with a sympathetic hiss.

 

He groaned, nodding. “I can deal with them. Knowing that I can have you in a month. Have you all to myself.” Derek kissed her once, twice, three times, the last one going longer, deeper. But then he pulled away and rolled to the edge of the bed. “I really should go. If you normally come up to four times, I really don’t think I'll be able to restrain myself through another one.”

 

“No, don’t,” Stiles pleaded, pushing out her bottom lip and making grabby hands at him. He’d only ever seen her do that for coffee and pie. In an odd way, it was sort of flattering. “Please stay. I’ve never had a post-orgasm cuddle before, and I’ll miss you.”

 

“You want me to stay the night? Does your dad still come in to wake you up in the mornings?”

 

“He doesn’t, hasn’t since I was fourteen. Please? If you don’t then I’m just gonna have to follow you back to your apartment and crawl in there, you know I would.” She lifted up the blanket, waiting.

 

“Shit, fine, but... Do you think we could... clean up a bit? I won’t be able to sleep with with this scent everywhere, and my balls still very much blue.”

 

She looked down at herself, almost like she was surprised to see she was totally nude and probably a little red from stimulation and stubble burn down below. “Seriously though, my vaginal secretions send you to bonerville?”

 

“That sort of dirty talk makes it hard to think straight,” he said drily.

 

“But what, you want me to take a shower? It’s like two in the morning!” She pouted, hoping that would work on him.

 

It didn’t. “Do you really want to wake up like that anyway? Come on, you shower, I’ll change the sheets. And come back wearing pjs please.” He leaned in, kissing her before pulling her out of the bed. She squawked, because apparently making sure the sheriff didn’t wake up wasn’t exactly her first priority. Stiles mumbled to herself about pushy werewolves and showering before she went to bed and, oddly enough, coffee beans before she crept out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Derek pulled the top sheets off Stiles’ bed and stuffed them in her closet hamper, sneaking out and picking another one from the hall closet. The nights were getting a little cooler the closer they got to autumn, so he picked a thin blanket, too, and neatly spread them out over the bed. He stripped down to his boxers before crawling in, and the scent of Stiles that still lingered on the fitted sheet under him made him groan.

 

Stiles came back a few minutes later, her hair damp, the smell of arousal almost completely gone, wearing one of her father's old police academy shirts that fell to her thighs and a pair of pajama shorts. She crawled into the bed, grinning when she saw that he had taken off his shirt. “This is awesome,” she said with an air of smugness, shutting off the lamp and throwing an arm comfortably over his chest. “I mean, I’m pretty disappointed that you didn’t get off, too, but seriously. That was the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 

“You’ve run with werewolves,” he pointed out as Stiles yawned.

 

“Yeah, and now I’ve had one whisper terrible things in my ear as I fucked myself with a vibrating dildo. They’re both pretty competitive for first place.”

 

Derek looked over to her, and could just see the brown of her eyes in the light from the window. “Well, hopefully soon we can top both of them.”

 

“We'd _better_ top both of them. Especially after making me wait a whole month.”

 

Pressing his face into her hair, Derek allowed himself a deep, sweet breath of Stiles. “That can be arranged.”

 

He was a fool to think her long silence after that was because she was too sleepy to carry on a conversation. “Is it weird that I’m thinking about bestiality thanks to that? Does it count as bestiality when you’ve shifted? Because you’re still a person. Mostly.”

 

“You really shouldn’t be allowed on the internet. I’m not having this conversation.”

 

“Why not? Hey speaking of not, do you have a knot? You know, like dogs? There is some pretty kinky stuff about knots. Most sites took me to beastiality though, but some-”

 

“Please shut up about knots.”

 

“If we’re in a relationship, you totally have to tell me about your knot! It’s the law!”

 

“That isn’t true.”

 

“... Okay, maybe it isn’t. But you should tell me anyway. If you have a knot. And if kinky wolfman sex is on the table.”

 

Derek found it weirdly hard to swallow all of the sudden. “Vanilla missionary sex isn’t even on the table, Stiles.”

 

She rolled onto her back, looking over at him. “Yes yes I  _know_. But it will be. And any kind of sex that we want, right? So. Does that include kinky wolfman sex? And if so, does kinky wolfman sex include knotting?”

 

He threw a hand over his face, groaning into it. “Alright, look: when I’m in my ‘wolfman’ phase, it would be difficult to... control my baser urges. So I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing  _that_ with you since you're human. I’m not trying to pressure you into taking the bite, it’s just a fact. And as I understand it, only Alphas have... have a... a-”

 

“Knot.”

 

“Yes, that.”

 

“You should probably know that I felt a tingle in Little Stiles when you said ‘baser urges.’”

 

He covered his face with a hand. “... I could hear it in your heartbeat.”

 

“Oh yeah!” She splayed her fingers over his chest. “Okay, so. Baser urges.”

 

“Stiles.”

 

“Oh, come on, you knew I was gonna ask. You’ve never hurt me before when you shifted.”

 

He grabbed her hand, pulling it away from his chest. “We weren’t having sex before. And I don’t mean I would hurt you, not really. But... well, it might get a little weird. And a lot forceful. And I honestly don’t really want to know what would happen, I might even try biting you to turn you, even though I’m not an alpha and it obviously wouldn’t work. I’m not sure what would happen, and that scares me.”

 

“Have you ever gotten scary urges like that before? With me?”

 

“It’s different, Stiles. I can control it if you’re just _there_ , but if we were... you just drive me crazy, and you drive the wolf a little crazy, too. I don’t want something awful to happen just because we were a little adventurous.”

 

She squeezed his hand and tugged it back until his arm was curled around her waist. “See, the cool thing about that is, I’d be totally prepared for anything. Nothing you could throw at me could surprise me, and I’m not afraid of you in the least. I trust you, Derek. You’re crazy good at self control, and you’re protective as hell - I imagine the wolfy you would be, too. We can hash this out later if you want, but seriously, Der. I want all the snarly, hairy parts of you. I’m not in this to be safe.”

 

“I know, Stiles. I know.” He ran a hand down the side of her face, resting to cup her chin and brought her close to kiss. But when she tried to deepen it, he pulled back. “We should probably go to sleep now. My balls are gonna start protesting soon.”

 

“I could... no, sorry, no sexy talk.” She mimed zipping her lips and tucked her face into the pillow by his head. Derek watched as she closed her eyes and all the muscles in her face began to relax. He knew it wouldn’t take long for Stiles to fall asleep, so when she mumbled, almost too drowsy to be comprehensible, he nearly laughed. “If Dad comes in, I called you. Had a nightmare, wanted you with me. ‘Kay?”

  
Derek kissed her forehead. “Okay.”


	6. Chapter 6

The door to the room opened, and Derek hardly rolled over or registered the morning sunlight in the bedroom before his mouth was on autopilot. "She had a nightmare, wanted me to come over, it's okay." He said it before even noticing that it wasn't the sheriff at the door.

 

"Uh..." Scott looked between them, a school book in his hand.

 

Stiles' mouth was open against Derek's shoulder and she was snoring, dead asleep despite the mounting tension filling her bedroom. Derek was torn between waking her to fix it, and letting her keep dozing; they  _had_ been up pretty late.

 

Finally Scott put his books down on the desk. "Does this mean you'll stop giving me death glares all the time?"

 

"I never gave you death glares," Derek muttered, and lightly moved Stiles onto the pillow.

 

"Call them whatever you want. Whenever I was with Stiles you would glare at me like you wanted to kill me. Can you wake her up? She said she would help me with my homework."

 

Derek glanced at the clock beside her bed. "It's not even noon. Why are you here now?"

 

"Allison and I have a date tonight," he said, flopping down in Stiles' computer chair. "Stiles says we have to do thinking things in the morning or I'll lose my focus."

 

"Don't start thinking about her now or it'll never get done," Stiles mumbled as she blinked her eyes open. She put her hand on Derek's chest under the blanket, rubbing at it lightly. “But seriously, you’re here so early. It’s a Saturday!”

 

“We have a date tomorrow too,” Scott admitted with a wide, goofy grin, and Stiles whimpered pitifully.

 

“Crack open your book and wake me when you can’t figure something out.” She pulled the blankets up over her head and breathed hotly against Derek’s shoulder.

 

“I already did that before I came! Give me  _some_ credit.”

 

She groaned and peeked up at Derek. “I’m sorry about this... hopefully it won’t take too long? If you want to wait?”

 

Derek glanced at Scott, and could see at least twenty brightly colored sticky notes in just the first book alone. “No, it’s fine. Come by the cafe when you’re done.”

 

“You didn’t tell me you worked today,” she mumbled before her face slowly morphed into a pleased expression as his words finally sank in. “Free coffee?”

 

“Free coffee.” He nosed along her temple for a moment and Scott made weird faces at them until he stopped.

 

“Why are you shirtless?”

 

Derek glanced at Scott, because really, he was tangled up in bed with Scott's best friend, and all he noticed was that Derek wasn’t wearing a shirt? “It was hot last night.”

 

“So hot,” Stiles groaned. Derek kicked her under the covers. Scott gagged. Stiles threw him a dirty look. “Excuse you, you’re the one who entered the love nest uninvited.”

 

“You told me to come!”

 

“Sorry,” Stiles moued at Derek, stroking his chest theatrically. “Scott doesn’t understand that booty calls trump friend duties every time.”

 

Derek said “This wasn’t a booty call,” at the same time that Scott started to protest. Stiles looked over at him and waggled a finger. “Don’t even. Ever since you and Alison started dating I have had to listen to every barftastic detail. I really never needed to know how her hair shines in the moonlight ' _after a night of spontaneous, passionate lovemaking_ '.” She stared meaningfully at Derek. “And I’m not even talking about the hair on her  _head_.”

 

“Stiles, that’s private!”

 

“Not private enough, brother! Wait Derek, don’t go, I need help to balance out the airheadedness in the room.”

 

He leaned over the bed and gave her a kiss before picking up his clothes off the floor. “Free coffee later, and then you can take me to a movie,” he amended when she made grabby hands.

 

Derek debated jumping out the window, but ultimately decided against it. He went down the stairs, and had to pass the sheriff making coffee. He wondered what it meant that all he got was a “Good morning, Derek,” as he walked by and out the front door.

 

* * *

 

 

Two short weeks later, Derek sat across from Stiles on her bedroom floor with a flood of flashcards separating their knees. Even though Stiles intended to graduate at semester, Derek thought that studying for her SAT so many months early was a little silly. But Stiles insisted on it, and what else were they going to do if he couldn’t tackle her to the bed and worship her body? So Derek read off something about advanced mathematics he’d forgotten ages ago when the window shot open and his sister tumbled inside the room.

 

“Hey kiddies! Wow it smells like sex in here!” She said, waving a hand in front of her face, grinning at the both of them.

 

 

“It does?” Stiles asked, looking over at Laura.

 

“No, it doesn’t,” Derek said with a shake of his head. If it had smelled like sex, he would definitely know about it.

 

Laura went to sit on the bed, being careful not to stop on any of the flash cards. “Well then what’s with all the UST then?”

 

Derek’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Stiles sighed the sigh of the long-suffering. “Derek won’t let us have sex because it’s illegal.”

 

“But your birthday’s only a few weeks away,” Laura said, her head cocking to the side. Derek set down the flash card in his hand and stood. He’d need coffee for this conversation. There was no way he was going to go through it without caffeine surging through his bloodstream. Just to spite Laura for opening up that chasm of forced chastity, Derek very pointedly didn’t make her a cup. He did take his time, though, crossing his fingers that maybe, just maybe the fates would be kind, and they would have talked it out by the time he’d prepared Stiles’ coffee to perfection.

 

He was walking back up the stairs to hear Laura laugh and say, “Well, I’m always available you know!” and he might have been a bit miffed if Stiles hadn’t answered, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m kinda stuck on Derek.”

 

When he opened the door, Derek acted like he hadn’t heard the whole thing, which they all knew wasn’t true but were really good at pretending. He handed Stiles her cup, and she gave a delighted sound at seeing that it was, as always, exactly the way she liked it. She started with licking off some of the whipped cream. Laura had relocated herself to Stiles’ side, and when she notice Derek hadn’t brought her a mug, she narrowed her eyes and slowly leaned into Stiles, both arms around her waist. Automatically, Stiles lifted her elbows to accommodate the embrace, and Laura smirked. She rested her chin casually on Stiles’ shoulder. “Can I have some?” she asked, and Stiles held out the mug to her. Laura dipped a finger in the whipped cream and slowly licked around the tip, sucking it into her mouth and... yep, Stiles couldn’t look away. Her mouth was open and her cheeks were flushed, and Derek was seriously considering tossing his sister out the window.

 

Of course, he had always known that his sister was better at dealing with people than he was. She always knew what to say, especially in situations that had him clamming up. But he had never been really jealous of her before. He had never minded that she always had more friends, that she seemed to attract people to her like flies to honey. But now he could say he was definitely jealous. Derek sat in the desk chair, sipping quietly at his own coffee.

 

Laura grinned triumphantly and wiped her spit-wet finger on Stiles’ t-shirt. “So this is what you guys do? Study?”

 

“I’m graduating in a few months,” Stiles said, stacking each set of cards neatly into their piles. “And Derek’s great at this. He doesn’t get impatient and you can’t actually tell from looking at his face if he’s bored or not, so I never feel bad. And he makes awesome coffee to keep me focused.” She smiled over at him and cradled the mug with both hands. Laura hummed.

 

“That’s so... wholesome. I always thought your first real relationship would be crazy teenage sex from the get-go.”

 

She shrugged, her pencil getting close to her mouth as she looked down at the cards. “I always knew that any relationship between us wouldn’t really be normal. Isn’t that right, Derek?” Stiles asked, looking up as she finally bit the end of her pencil, grinning around it. He wanted to kiss her. He would if his sister wasn’t draped all over her body. Laura looked like she knew it, too, because her grin just got bigger.

 

“Hey, did you ever have a crush on me?” she asked. Derek was definitely going to have to throw her out that window. “I mean, come on. I was your hot babysitter. We grew up really close. There’s a trope in there somewhere.”

 

Stiles looked up at her, grinning, and took the pencil out of her mouth so she could lean over and kiss Laura on the lips. She pulled back, still smiling. “I love you Laura. I always will. Like a big sister. A big, extremely sexy sister that I know would kick the shit out of anyone who tried to hurt me.” And, maybe she was just saying that for Derek’s benefit, because he  _was_ right there, and obviously listening, but he took it as the truth.

 

Laura looked at Derek and then back at Stiles, pressing a hand to her heart. “My first Stiles kiss. This is the happiest day of my life! I’m gonna celebrate. Wanna crash a party with me, sweet baby sister?”

 

“She’s studying,” Derek grumbled. He was very aware of how ridiculous he sounded when she’d just invited Stiles out with her to a party, but he couldn’t help but speak up just a little.

 

Stiles sighed and looked at Laura. “Yeah, he’s right, I really do need to study. Trig is gonna be killer. But thanks for the invite! I’ll definitely crash the next one! I’ll crash it so hard it’s gonna have broken bones.”

 

Laura laughed and shook her head. “Well, let’s hope so. You have a lot of partying to make up for.” She kissed the top of Stiles’ head and stood up. “See you sweetie. And Derek - you have to come to a family dinner or something, the parents are complaining.” And with that, she jumped out the window, as if it never even occurred to her to try to act normal. Derek glared after her, partially glad that she was gone, and partially upset that he hadn’t actually followed through and tossed her out himself.

 

“You look kinda grumpy, Chuckles.” Stiles sipped at her coffee before she beckoned him over. “Come, come sit by the fire of my burning love.”

 

“I really hope that’s a song lyric and not an innuendo,” Derek said, but still did what she asked. He picked up a stack of flashcards and started looking through them. “Want me to ask some questions? These ones are about trig.”

 

She smiled a little lopsided smile and put her coffee to the side. "Nah. Come here for a sec."

 

Obligingly, he leaned over the nearly organized stacks of cards and she pressed her mouth against his. It was soft and sweet, and just because he was still a little pissed about Laura's kiss, he sank his teeth into her plush bottom lip and tugged. She gasped, but just leaned in closer, letting his tongue into her mouth, running along hers, exploring what he already knew. Stiles had to pull back for air, and she rested her forehead on his, grinning over at him. "I always loved you best, you know that right?"

 

"Liar," he grunted, going in for a quick, sloppy kiss. "You loved her first. You wouldn't even talk to me the first three times we met."

 

"Aww." Stiles scratched at the stubble along his jaw. "You counted?"

 

"No, but Laura did, and she won't let me forget it," he said with a roll of his eyes. "But I guess you must have gotten brave or something because after that you never left me alone."

 

She grinned and nodded. "Ever since you put that band-aid on my knee when I fell from the swingset. Why did you guys even have band-aids? I guess you had a few human kids over..."

 

"Two of my dad's sister's kids are human. And you never know." He grabbed her face and squished until her lips were pursed like a fish. "Are we talking about this or studying for your important test?"

 

She blew through her lips so that she really looked like a fish until Derek let her go. "I don't feel like studying anymore. Your sister kinda ruined the studious mood we had going on. We could go for a run in the woods? No wolf powers."

 

"Your endurance is shit," he said fondly, "but I like to watch you struggle."

 

"Awww... that's... sweet?"

 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "You should change your pants; those jeans are too tight for running."

 

“Or I could get out of my pants and we could test our endurance some other - sorry! Sorry. Oh man, this is hard. And not in a promising way.” She cupped his neck and sighed. “Okay. I’ll go grab some shorts. And you should lose the shirt.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes and looked away as she changed out of her jeans. It was a fairly warm day, so he figured that it would actually be more comfortable running without a shirt. He took it off, leaving it on the bed to grab later.

 

“Okay,” Stiles breathed, stretching one leg out and reaching down to touch her toes. “Now just give me five minutes to warm up an we’ll be on our way.”

 

“Humans take way to long to prepare themselves for little runs,” he muttered loud enough for her to hear.

 

“Shut up and take a nap, wolf man. The minute we’re back from this jog - and it  _will_ be a jog - we’re gonna hose off and study ‘til I drop. Race you down the stairs!”

 

He started when she sprinted out of the room, standing up mechanically. “I thought you were stretching...!”

 

Stiles just laughed.

 

Well, there was only one way to deal with that. Derek took a quick scan out the window to make sure there was nobody around, and leapt down onto the grass, landing smoothly on his feet in a crouch. A second later Stiles came out the door and stopped in her tracks. Derek stood up and grinned. "I win."

 

"Screw that, I said down the stairs, not outside, so I win by default." She glared down at his feet. "And you're barefoot. I had to put on shoes, you dirty rotten cheat!"

 

He shrugged at that. "Not my fault human feet need shoes. Are you coming?"

 

Watching her take off into the woods in a huff truly was a thing of beauty.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was on edge and Derek didn’t know why. She’d finished her monthly cycle a week before (and so had he, and they’d made sure to stay far away from each other those couple coinciding days), so that couldn’t be it. The round of exams she’d been studying for had finished. Her birthday was only a week away. If her muscles were taut with anything, should it not have been anticipation, rather than agitation?

 

Her leg was jiggling, and she was already on her third cup of coffee in twenty minutes, which was a record even for her. Derek cleared his throat and put down his mug. “Want another one?”

 

Stiles looked up at him, eyes wide. “Another one? Oh god yes I thought you would never ask! What’s a week right? A week doesn’t matter! Let’s go to my house, my dad’s working, we can-”

 

“What are you talking about? Stiles, I meant another coffee.”

 

She glanced in her cup, and saw that it was empty. “Oh, ha, right, of course you meant coffee. What else could you mean?”

 

Blinking slowly Derek repeated, “Yeah, what else could I mean?”

 

“Things,” Stiles responded wistfully, and her voice was weirdly low. Not like she’d intended for it to be, and she didn’t even seem to have noticed that it was. “So many things.”

 

He stood up slowly, grabbing her cup, and went behind the counter to fill it. He wasn’t working all day, but because of her need for coffee they'd ended up at the shop anyway. Derek sat back down, handing it over, and put both hands on the table. “Alright. What’s going on? You’re acting weirder than when I broke the vase in the living room and you tried to hide it from Laura so I wouldn't get in trouble.”

 

“You have really great hands,” she said, apropos of nothing, staring down at them and gnawing at her bottom lip. “I’ve told you that, right?”

 

“And that I have a great mouth.”

 

The lid of Stiles’ cup popped off when she squeezed it, though by some miracle none spilled. Still, they both started violently, and he snatched the cup away before she could burn herself. “Seriously, Stiles,” he growled. “You’re starting to scare me.”

 

“I’m sorry! Just... look, give me a few hours before we go to the movie tonight? I need some- ah, alone time. Please?” She stood up once she put the lid to her coffee back on.

 

Derek sighed. “Alright. I’ll pick you up just before five, okay?”

 

 

“I thought the movie was after six?” she squeaked. Derek blinked. Since when did Stiles need a reason to hang out with Derek for an extra hour?

 

“It is,” he said cautiously. “I just thought we’d go to dinner first.”

 

“Not hungry!”

 

“Stiles, it’s four hours away.”

 

“Uh. Right.” Stiles nodded. “Five. Okay... okay, five’s cool. I can do five. See you at five.”

 

Derek was looking at her strangely, but nodded anyway. “I’ll see you at five then.” They both stood up and he stepped forward for a kiss. Stiles hesitated, which was... strange. She was normally the first one to kiss him. He still pulled her forward by her hips, and gave a quick kiss to her lips. When he tried deepening it, she pulled away snd stumbled toward the door.

 

“Bye! See you at five!”

 

“Trouble in paradise?” Laura crooned from over his shoulder. Derek threw a crumpled napkin at her face and disappeared into the back office.

 

Stiles was in the house when Derek pulled up, he knew that much. If the blue jeep in the drive wasn’t proof enough, he could hear her, and even (though he hadn’t spilled the beans about it yet)  _feel_ her there, only just nearby. He was a little early, sure, but twenty minutes was nothing. Twenty minutes could give him enough time to bribe Stiles’ secret out of her with ice cream after dinner.

 

But after the first time that he had walked in on her, he knew how to identify the noises. The mechanical, vibrating sounds, going along with her fast heartbeat and hitched breath. Derek stopped himself right below her window, because he couldn’t go through that again, knowing the he shouldn’t do anything for a week. For the first five minutes, he distracted himself with his phone. It was a good plan, he’d thought. A decent plan. She should have her privacy if he wasn’t going to offer any assistance, after all.

 

Then twelve minutes had passed, and Derek was beginning to wonder if it was going to end. He could feel his own heartbeat start up a quicker tempo as he foolishly allowed himself a second to listen, to maybe hear how much longer she’d be. Of course, as soon as he allowed himself to listen, he couldn’t stop. Derek heard Stiles give a groan, could even imagine he could smell her from all the way down here, smell her sweat, smell her arousal, and it was just like that first time, like he was in the room with her.

 

And then he heard his name uttered on a whimper, and before he’d even registered what he was doing, he’d scaled the tree up to Stiles’ window. Derek stopped himself at the last minute, digging his claws into the shingles of the awning and closing his eyes. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. There was only a week left, he reminded himself. Just a short week. And then she wouldn’t have to imagine that a hard little mechanical toy was him.

 

Derek forced himself to climb back down, trying to ignore the way his cock was throbbing in his jeans. He grabbed his phone and typed out a quick message to Stiles.  _I’ll be there in ten minutes_.

 

He could hear the sound of her phone going off, and a second later there was a clatter and the vibrations stopped. Her groan tapered off into a whimper and then the buzzing started again, a little louder. Within seconds her heartrate doubled and the noises she made were louder, higher, and... and listening to her climax nearly had Derek completely bailing on his plan a week in advance just to touch her and lick the sweat and the heady, musky essence from her body. Shortly after, the concise word  _Shower_ popped up in his inbox, and the sound of her limping from the room reached his ears.

 

When the shower started, Derek climbed back up and slipped in the window. He couldn’t help it though; once he was in the room, the smell was intoxicating. Derek reached down and grabbed himself through his jeans. Stiles was obviously still in the shower, and would be for at least another few minutes. Reaching down into his jeans, he’d truly only intended to adjust himself. But then he saw the tissues right by her headboard, and another inhale brought the thick scent of her into his senses, and all bets were off.

 

It was notable that the smell of Stiles’ sex was far headier than it had been that accidental first time - like she’d spent hours in bed just opening herself up, stroking and pleasuring herself with the single-minded fixation of a woman possessed, and it yanked him closer and closer to the edge with each tug of his dick as Derek realized that was exactly what she must have been doing. For _hours_.

 

He came with a muffled moan, grabbing a tissue in the last second, catching all of his seed. Derek stayed there for a second, against the wall, and then threw the Kleenex into the garbage. Dammit, now it practically reeked of sex in here, and he wondered for a second if even Stiles’ human nose could pick it up. She might, coming back in after her shower, but he didn’t think she’d be able to smell what he smelled: the scent of Derek and Stiles and sex so intertwined, he could almost imagine they’d done more than just masturbate a few short minutes apart from one another.

 

Just a week. Just a week.

 

“Holy-! Fuck, Derek,” she gasped, clutching the white towel up around her armpits. “Should’ve expected this. Didn’t, weirdly enough.”

 

He swallowed, glanced away as a drop of water fell from her hair and down to her shoulder. “You should get dressed. Then we can go.”

 

“Oh god, you know don’t you?! You can smell it everywhere, or else you would be looking at me.” Stiles accused, pointing at him. “Or... you heard didn’t you. Were you outside the whole time?”

 

“No! Not... the whole time.”

 

The strangled noise she made was what finally convinced him to peek up at her. “Yeah,” she croaked, every inch of skin from her forehead to her chest a blotchy pink. “Because it would’ve been weird if you’d stuck around for all five.”

 

“You’ve only been here four hours, Stiles.”

 

“I didn’t say five  _hours._ ”

 

Derek swallowed past a lump in his throat. “So... you’re saying that the reason you’ve been so restless is because of sexual frustration?” Well, considering that he had just jerked off in his girlfriend’s room while she was in the shower, that might've been a problem for him as well.

 

“Yes! My bunny's already ran out of batteries, and they were new! I just can’t stop thinking about - about how my birthday is so close, and all the things I want to do....” Stiles paused and narrowed her eyes at the waste paper bin near the door and Derek thought his heart would stop. He didn’t know why; Stiles must have known that he masturbated as well. Just... not traditionally in her bedroom. There was no reason to feel caught out.

 

Then she looked up at him.

 

“You’re not just flushed because of your epiphany, are you?”

 

He covered his eyes with his hand, not wanting to see her face right now. “What, do you normally memorize the things in your trash bin? Fine, I think we’ve established we’re both sex crazed perverts here, now can we go to dinner and forget this conversationever happened?”

 

Stiles huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. “I can’t believe you were all naked and sweaty with your cock out in my room and I missed it. We are definitely making up for this on my birthday. Starting right at midnight. We may not leave your apartment the whole day.”

 

“You want to do this in  _my_ apartment?”

 

“Uh, duh.” She lifted both her eyebrows until they nearly reached her hairline. “I’m gonna climb you like a tree, buddy. You think I want any chance of my dad catching wind?”

 

“But he knows we-”

 

“Are you about to argue in favor of my dad potentially catching us in a compromising position?”

 

“I wouldn’t let him catch us, I would be able to hear him coming up the stairs and-”

 

“So you’re going to argue in favor of stopping the sexing every time my dad needs to go pee? Nope, this is definitely happening at your place. So I hope you have a sturdy bed. And couch. And any horizontal surface. Because I really wasn’t kidding about the screwing all day thing. I have four years of ideas from watching porn, and I have to try at least my top five before the day is over.”

 

“You have incredible confidence in my stamina,” he said, pushing himself up and looking down at his hands. Brushing past Stiles, Derek went into the bathroom down the hall to wash them. When he came back, she was wiggling into a pair of skinny jeans and cinching them, without so much as a bra on up top. Her pale back was lined with moles and freckles that he wanted to know more intimately, and Derek moved forward to touch her shoulder. Stiles looked up and then back down at her breasts.

 

“Should I be feeling more... I dunno... modest?” She cupped her chest in both hands. “I mean, it’s just, hanging around your family I’ve seen so many free boobs, it’s not even funny. It’s like I’m becoming one of you pod people.”

 

Derek shrugged and threw a bra at her from her bed. “How am I supposed to know, I’ve lived with them my whole life.”

 

Stiles did up the one he had tossed, and spent a second adjusting herself in it. Derek could swear his mouth started to water at the sight. “Well, I still didn’t see many dicks there. I guess everyone realized that there was a human girl over, so they kept the junk in the trunk. Even you, I’ve only seen you in boxers, and that was when we went swimming in the lake.”

 

“You mean when you followed Laura’s lead and went skinny dipping for three years?”

 

“Three beautiful, freeing years,” she sighed. “They were wasted on child me.”

 

“We can go again, if you’d like.” Derek watched her as she sized him up for a second and turned to her closet, probably to find a shirt suitable to his. It was a casual date, so all she had to do was grab the first shirt she saw. The first shirt she saw was the soft purple one with Batman on the front. It clung to her loosely, lovingly. It soaked up her warmth and slid like a breath over her skin when a hand crawled under to touch. He liked that shirt.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“It’s too cold now, but next summer...”

 

“Next summer, when I am very much eighteen, and we are very much having sex. Yeah, that would be fun. Man, it would feel great to have my boobs out and floating. My natural floatation devices!” Stiles grinned, jumping up and down a little so that her ‘floatation devices’ bounced with her. Derek nodded, putting a hand around her waist.

 

“You look ridiculous,” he told her, and she gasped in indignation.

 

“I do not!”

 

“What if I’d done that with my dick?”

 

She burst out laughing, probably at the mental imagery, and he had to kiss her cheek. It was unfair how fond he was of her. “Come on, let’s go eat. You must have burned off plenty of energy in the last four hours.”

  
“Burned off a few other things too,” she said with a smirk, as they went downstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

The night before her birthday, Derek held up a wrapped box. Stiles, who lay draped over his couch in a pair of Derek’s boxers and one of her oversized hoodies, squinted.

 

“‘s not tomorrow yet.”

 

“No, but I imagine the sex marathon you’re petitioning makes this the perfect time to give you your present.”

 

Stiles looked at the clock hanging over the stove in his little kitchenette and sighed wistfully. “My birthday’s only a couple hours away.”

 

“... Have you already forgotten I’m shoving a present in your face?”

 

She blew the bangs out of her face and grabbed the present. “Okay, okay, fine. But unless it’s a dick in the box it won’t top the present you’re gonna give me at midnight. And you could have given it to me at my party.” The party which was happening two days after her real birthday. A lot of people had asked her why she was having it then, and she had bragged to most of them that Derek would be keeping her busy the entire day. Derek was starting to worry about her expectations.

 

“I hope you don’t think I have the same dependable stamina as a vibrator,” he said, voicing his concern. She snorted and shooed him away with a hand, setting to opening her gift.

 

“If this isn’t the pony I asked for, I’m breaking up with you,” she warned, and then the wrapping paper fell away and the cardboard box was open, the contents tumbled into her lap. He could see her trying so hard to ignore the dark, shiny device encased in plastic, the long bottles of top quality lube and toy cleaner, and the veritable rainbow of condoms that lay over her lap as she picked up the card and opened it. Her eyes scanned the text in seconds flat and Stiles turned, mouth agape.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Seriously,” he said, trying not to tremble with anticipation. “You’ve been patient. And if I don’t live up to your expectations of endurance, that’s what that... that cthulhu-looking thing is for.”

 

She jumped up, the box falling to the floor and spilling all its contents. “Ah! Okay!” Stiles jumped at him, knowing that his werewolf reflexes would catch her when she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. “No more waiting! Ah fuck, we’re gonna need those condoms.” She tried leaning down backwards to grab them, which was just ridiculous really.

 

Derek pulled her back up, shaking his head. “I have the rest of the box in my room. Our first time needs to be on a bed.” He started walking to the bedroom as Stiles tried to pull his shirt off, even with her legs wrapped around it.

 

“Scott says that his first time with Allison was in a tent," she said breathlessly, mouthing at his neck. "And after that, Allison told me to never do it in a tent. She had a rock digging into her back the whole time.”

 

“I’d never fuck you into a rock. What do you think I am, an animal?”

 

She giggled against his neck before biting and sucking enthusiastically. “You act like you were raised by wolves,” Stiles breathed, sloppily drawing a sharp bruise on his throat. “Thought I’d mention it.”

 

Once they got to his room, Derek let her down lightly, and started nibbling on her throat. She had told a lot of people to not be surprised if they saw hickeys, so he didn’t want to let them down. Stiles already had his shirt off, and was working on hers when she gave a grunt and pushed him away. “Less sucking, more stripping! Come on, we should be naked already!”

 

“Actually, we shouldn’t, not for another hour,” he said, and the second her hands were free, he lifted her hips himself and yanked his boxers off of her. She laughed and grabbed him by the shoulders, sliding her knee up in between his thighs until he shuddered and rocked back against her. Fuck, he was actually going to - they were going to -

 

“Don’t you dare slip into a little reverie, come on, I’ve been thinking about this all night,” she groaned. “All year. Fuck, all through puberty, and I’m fucking wet, come on!”

 

He worked on getting his own pants off, knowing that if he didn’t she would start complaining. “Good to know we won’t be needing much lube then.” Derek pushed down his pants and boxers at the same time, and kneeled down on the bed.

 

Stiles wasn’t even trying to hide the intensity of her stare. “Holy shit... You said you were worried about keeping up with bunny, but I assure you, you measure up quite well. I mean, I knew you were big, I could see through your jeans when you were hard, but fuck, Derek!”

 

Licking his lips, Derek looked down at himself and then back up at Stiles. Who was ogling him. Quite unabashedly, at that. “If this was gay porn, I think they’d call you a bear cub. Look at you.” She dragged her nails down his torso. “Oh fuck me, this is awesome.”

 

“I’m feeling a little objectified,” he pointed out, and she snorted, pulling him down for a kiss.

 

Stiles still had a firm hand around his neck, but her other hand was reaching out for something, which put them at an odd angle, and finally Derek pulled away. “What are you doing?”

 

“Looking for the condoms! Where are they?” she asked, feeling around in the bedside table drawer.

 

He rolled his eyes. “Under the bed, give me a sec. Do you have, ah, any preference?”

 

“What do you have?”

 

“Well, thin, flavored, ribbed, tingling, heating, I think these glow in the dark... Stop laughing, I couldn’t decide which ones to get!”

 

When she finally managed to stop giggling, Stiles tapped her chin in exaggerated thought. “Why don’t we try the... the glow in the dark one. I want my first time to be memorable. Memorable from the rest of the night, anyway.”

 

Derek squeezed her calf as a thought came to mind. He rubbed the skin and kneaded it softly as he took a breath to calm himself a little. “Thanks for reminding me.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“This is your first time,” Derek said, squeezing her knees. “So this is how it’s gonna go down.”

 

“Oh geez.”

 

“I’m going to take my time eating you out.”

 

“O... oh?” She perked up, propping herself on her elbows. “I thought you were gonna try making more rules.”

 

“No, but I just... I want you to be relaxed and open for me.”

 

“I’ve used some pretty impressive toys before, Derek.”

 

“What you want from me is a sex marathon all through your birthday, and if something goes wrong - if you get hurt, or even too sore, it won’t be pleasant for you. So that’s why I’m gonna do this.”

 

She finally looked up at him. “Well, I guess I can’t protest you eating me out. I mean from the small taste I got that one time, I think I’ll be pretty damn happy. But we should have the condom ready to go, we won’t want to have to stop to search around under the bed in the middle.”

 

Derek agreed to that wholeheartedly, and spent a minute with his head under the bed, looking for the glow in the dark ones. Eventually he gave up and brought out all the boxes so they were spread out on the floor.

 

“That’s a pretty impressive collection,” Stiles said, propping her chin over the edge of the bed to stare at him, and Derek would have responded if he didn’t catch sight of her hand slowly rotating between her thighs. Derek grabbed the first handful he could find and dumped it on the bedside table before he scrambled on top of her and batted her hand away. Thinking twice, Derek took her wrist in his hand and pulled the two slick fingers into his mouth.

 

She gave a groan as he pushed his tongue between them, and before he took them out of his mouth, Derek bit her fingers, just enough to make her jump. “Here, lay down.” He grabbed a pillow and settled it under Stiles’ hips.

 

“Holy shit, I can’t believe we’re finally doing this.”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed eloquently, parting her thighs and diving right in. She tensed and arched and wiggled her way through the next ten minutes and finally, and finally, he had to pin her hips down to keep Stiles still. She let out a little noise of both protest and interest, and the hot muscle under his tongue tensed and convulsed. _Someone_ certainly liked being held down.

 

“Stiles. If you can keep still for two minutes, I’ll give you a reward, alright?”

 

“And if I don’t you’ll punish me?” she asked, arching up as he rubbed a finger between her lips. “Who says I wouldn’t like the punishment more?”

 

He gave a dark chuckle, resting his forehead on her pelvic bone. “The punishment would be me not letting you come until midnight, which is still half an hour away.”

 

“I’ve got nowhere else to be,” she said, and her voice warbled like she was struggling to breathe. Like she wanted it.

 

“Maybe tomorrow,” he offered, and she whimpered a little in disappointment and, seriously, Stiles was  _disappointed_ that he was going to make her come so quickly. Derek was absolutely going to have fun with this.

 

He used two fingers to open her up, and licked up to her entrance before probing inside wiith his tongue, tasting her. Stiles keened above him, but managed to keep her hips still even as he ran one finger around and around her clit.

 

Stiles was panting, wondering if Derek was actually serious about the two minute thing. But she still kept mostly still, her hands clenching in the pillow case.

 

Derek made the mistake of letting go of her hip for a split second, because the instant she was free, Stiles bucked. He jolted when his nose was shoved up against the wetness of her sex. Derek looked up with wide eyes and Stiles made a strangled noise. “Shh,” he tried to ease, but she laughed sharply and covered her face with both hands.

 

“I just hit you in the face with my vagina, Derek, let me wallow in it for a minute!”

 

He growled and clamped a hand down on her thigh. “You moved, so now I have to punish you.” Derek bent down again, unleashing an assault on her clit, and used the hand that wasn’t currently holding her down to play with one of her nipples. Stiles gasped, her muscles clenching all over her body.

 

Derek listened to her heart rate, and her breathing, and everything he could, and right when her hips were trying to once again lift off the bed, he pulled away and started lightly stroking her stomach.

 

“No!” she gasped, a high-pitched whine in her voice, desperate and raw. “No, no, please...”

 

“I thought you wanted this,” he murmured, kissing the little chubby curve of her stomach. She shook her head violently.

 

“I was an idiot! Please, Derek, I want it so bad...”

 

But he shook his head, running two hands along her hips. “Twenty eight minutes 'til midnight. Do you know what I could do in twenty eight minutes?” Derek gave her a wolfish grin, and then got up on his knees to lean forward and kiss her. She kissed him back hungrily, though he imagined the punch to his shoulder was probably for denying her orgasm, and it only made him smile.

 

“Fuck, you’re hard,” Stiles said when his cock bumped the curve of her hip. She licked his lip. “Just from eating me out? How hot is that.”

 

Derek started kissing a line down her neck, and to her chest. “If I had a little less self control, I probably would have come _just_ from eating you out. Self control is something that you should learn.” He paused as he got to her navel, listening to any signs to see if it was safe to continue. But it seemed she had come down from the building orgasm, which meant it was time to build her back up again.

 

The second time he pulled away when she was maybe three seconds from coming, Stiles outright sobbed and reached down to touch herself, but Derek grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. “No,” he commanded, and she snarled (he had to admit, he was pretty impressed).

 

“I’m going to fucking wreck you my first blowjob, you hear me?” she panted. Stiles’ face was red and her curls stuck out everywhere; a thin sheen of sweat covered most of her body, and Derek thought she was unfairly beautiful when she threatened him.

 

"I'll look forward to it," Derek said, which wasn't really true because he knew she would hold onto her promise. He leaned down, hoping that a kiss would calm her down enough so that she wasn't so frustrated. After all, he wanted to tease her, not torture her.

 

"Tell you what," Derek said after a few long minutes. He thumbed at her swollen bottom lip and kissed it softly. "If you can spread your legs and hold completely still, every single muscle, I'll make you come."

 

She bit her lip and nodded, looking up at him. Then she spread her legs, using her hands to keep them apart, so Derek moved down her body and had to groan at the image, her opening herself to him so easily.

 

When he looked up, Stiles' face was beet-red; her eyes were glazed and half-lidded. He leaned down to mouth at the swollen nub presented so prettily to him, pushing two, then three fingers inside her, then a fourth when she began to tense up. "Good girl," Derek growled.

 

Her hips jolted every so often, making Derek's tongue move constantly over her clit. Stiles was making little breathless noises as she got herself more worked up, her mouth hanging open.

 

"I thought you weren't going to move," Derek said, to which Stiles whimpered, "Sorry, I'm sorry, please don't stop, Derek!" and, well, it wasn't every day Stiles begged. So he sucked gently on the nub and rocked his fingers in and shallowly out of Stiles until she was quaking, and he knew it was coming.

 

Stiles kept muttering under her breath, saying things like "Yeah" and "Oh fuck" and "More". And then they stopped being words, and Derek could feel a gush of wetness against his fingers as Stiles gave a shout. She came with a shudder, still trying to not move, and he stroked her through it.

 

It was her first time coming under his hand (and his mouth) and Derek realized he was rutting against the bed only a few seconds before he came too, messy and hot all over the bed as he fingerfucked Stiles through the little aftershocks.

 

She was panting, and he finally took his fingers out, shining with her juices. He crawled up her body, resting his head on the pillow next to hers. Stiles turned, kissing him, then staring at him so close she went cross-eyed. "I guess we'll have to wait to have sex then."

 

"We just had sex," he said, and she let out a breathless little laugh until he kissed her quiet. Derek relaxed his entire body, half draped over Stiles and practically glowing in contentment. Her fingers carded through his hair, lulling him into a post-orgasmic stupor.

 

They both dozed lightly, trying not to completely fall asleep, because that would take about eight hours away from the long-awaited event. Stiles tried a few things to stay awake, because she only wanted them to rest until Derek could get it up again. And he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, he really hadn’t, but with the combination of the time, the orgasm, Stiles’ hand sliding rhythmically through his hair, their mingled scents permeating his private space, and the sound of her voice as she talked on and on about her sex dreams and sex hopes and sex fears, Derek was out like a light in minutes.

 

Around four in the morning, Derek woke up to an empty bed, the patch of heat beside him quickly fading. He got up and followed Stiles' scent to the bathroom, where he found her brushing her teeth. Stiles saw him in the mirror, and Derek went over to her, putting his hand on the counter on either side of her hips. He bent his head to suck at Stiles’ neck, pressing his morning wood against her ass so that she would be able to feel it. Stiles nearly choked on her toothbrush and quickly yanked it from her mouth to spit in the sink. It wasn’t sexy at all, but Derek was too drowsy to try and analyze why his cock didn’t soften a bit. Hastily, Stiles cupped the running water into her hands and rinsed out her mouth, spitting that out as well, and wiped at the corners of her lips. “Hey there, Derek. Little Derek. Sorry I woke you up.”

 

“Could tell you were gone. Felt wrong,” he mumbled into her neck. “Sorry I fell asleep. I was tired.”

 

She turned around, still trapped by his arms. “Typical guy, one orgasm and you pass out. But I won’t hold it against you.”

 

Derek kissed her, bringing one hand up to run along her bare back. “Happy Birthday.”

 

“Aww, thanks, boo,” she grinned, lacing her fingers at the small of his back casually. “You still tired?”

 

“Yes,” he answered. Both of his hands reached down over the swell of her ass and drew her close to grind his dick against her hip.

 

“Y-yeah? You wanna go back to sleep?”

 

“Yep.” He knew his stubble would leave her skin sensitive and red wherever he rubbed it, but he couldn’t help himself. Her scent was so good, and the only way to make it even better was to spread his all over her.

 

Stiles reached down, cupping his length in her hand. “Do you want me to take care of this first?”

 

His eyes slipped shut, and Derek gave a small groan. Stiles figured she would take that as a yes. She pushed him back to the wall and kneeled in front of him, eyes flicking upward to watch his face as she leaned in and licked a stripe up his dick without preamble.

 

He’d had way too many dreams like this. The back of Derek’s skull hit the wall behind him and he didn’t have the wherewithal to even try to censor the little noises that came tumbling out of his mouth as her inexperienced tongue explored the length of him. Stiles was curious and unabashed, tracing the veins with the tip of her tongue, mouthing experimentally at his balls, toying with his foreskin. Derek whined when she pulled away, frowning at it. “Okay, so I can’t get over the dried stuff that’s sort of... all over the tip here, buddy. And it’s on your stomach so I can’t even have a good ab lick.”

 

Derek reached down and grabbed her hand, pulling her up. “Shower then.” He pushed her towards the shower, opened the door and turned on the water. It quickly warmed up and he brought Stiles under the spray. “I sometimes fantasized about having you in here, whenever I jerked off in the shower,” he confessed. Stiles grinned so widely he could smell the mint on her teeth.

 

“Well, someone’s honest with an insufficient amount of sleep. C’mere, big guy. You’ve got me now.” She twined her arms around his neck and let him lift her up, winding her legs around his waist to press their sexes together.

 

He couldn’t help thrusting his hips, his cock moving across her cunt. The water was running down both of them, heating their skin even more, a flush spreading across Stiles’ whole body. Derek had wanted so badly and waited so long for this, and he was starting to think the wait had been worth it. Stiles’ mouth was sopping wet as she kissed him, her fingers clawing at his back and shoulders like an animal. Derek wanted to fuck her. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything before, and a short snarl was ripped from his chest as he realized the only thing keeping him from doing just that was the distance between himself and the condoms in his bedroom.

 

“Y-you almost done?” Stiles gasped. “‘Cause I get puh... pretty horny in the morning too, an’ I don’t think I’m gonna last, Der, so just... just a bit more...”

 

Derek propped her up against the linoleum wall, thrusting against her, feeling her get wet again. It soaked his cock, making a mess, but that was why they were in the shower, right? Stiles was breathing in small gasps, her head thrown against the wall, her hair sticking to it and making her look wild. Derek came at the thought of biting her, of sinking his teeth into her neck to mar it perfectly alongside the little moles and freckles. It was the filthy, gripping desire to claim and own for the wolf. And the wolf wanted her.

 

Stiles whimpered, and Derek smeared his come around her clit to satisfy himself, but it seemed to do the trick for her, too, because she started shaking and falling apart in his arms with a desperate little shout.

 

She started sagging against him, and Derek put his hands under her butt so she wouldn’t fall. “Can you stand?” After all, now they really needed to clean off. When she stood on shaky legs, he grabbed some body wash and started soaping her up. “Next time, I’m fucking you, I swear.” She huffed a laugh against his shoulder.

 

“Promises, promises,” she sighed. When Derek lathered up the soap in between her thighs just to hear her laugh, he was not disappointed. “Wanna get your ass, too? In case we feel like rimming.” Derek choked and stared at her with wide eyes. She looked innocently back. “What?”

 

He just shook his head, turning her around so he could get her back. “It’ll never get boring with you, will it?”

 

“Not in a million years.” With that she wiggled her butt at him, and he chuckled, moving the soap down her back.

 

It took them a while to get out of the shower, thanks to frequent pauses for makeouts, including once when they were toweling off. Derek was starting to react again, which Stiles noticed, so she tried to hurry things along so they could get back to the bed.

 

“Have I mentioned this is awesome?” Stiles asked, launching herself from the bathroom and into Derek’s bed the second the towel was off her body. “Because this is awesome. Is this what adulthood is like? Because I’m loving it so far. Hey, I thought you were ready to go back to sleep?”

 

But Derek didn’t get onto the bed. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen first.”

 

“Kitchen sex? Kinky. Alright, I’m up for that.” Stiles bounced off the bed and following him. They were both completely naked, but there were only two windows open and they were on the third floor, so he wasn't worried about it. Derek got to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

 

“Not kitchen sex. I got you a birthday cake.”

 

“Cake you’re going to eat off my body?” She gasped. “Cake I’m going to eat off  _your_ body? Nipple frosting party? Oh my god, why are you shaking your head, you  _know_ it’s the best idea in the world.”

 

“Nipple frosting party,” Derek muttered to himself incredulously as he lifted the lid from atop the handmade birthday cake.

 

“Nipple frosting party!” Stiles exclaimed, jumping up and down. Then she stopped and looked at the cake. “Holy shit, did you make that? That’s so sweet, Derek! And yes, that pun was totally intended. But you know, we could have cake after you rock my world with your cock. The rocking with your cock really should happen as soon as possible.”

 

“Cake first,” he insisted, reaching up to grab a couple plates and setting them down on the counter.

 

“Plates? What is this, brunch? C’mon, Der-bear.” The line of Stiles’ body pressed warmly against his back, and she hooked her chin over his shoulder. A pair of arms encircled his waist. “We’re both naked adults wandering around your kitchen at five in the morning. Be adventurous. Grab a fork and just dig in.”

 

He was still insisting on the plates, apparently. “Just be glad that I didn’t do the whole birthday song with candles and making a wish.”

 

“If you did, my wish would be that you forgot about the cake and we went back to the bed. Or it doesn’t have to be the bed, it could be anywhere really, anywhere would be good.” She nuzzled the back of his neck, and he knew it was still damp from the shower, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Can I just have the whole cake please? Just maybe shove my face into it and get in there.”

 

“This is a work of art, Stiles.”

 

“So’s your dick,” she said, punctuated with a kiss to his shoulder. “Both of which I’d like to stuff my mouth with as soon as possible.”

 

He turned around, two pieces of cake on the plates, and took them to the table, Stiles following behind, still wrapped around him. “Seriously? The table? Derek, this is really cute and nice and all, but right now I would rather hot and wild. And dirty. And sweaty. And sticky...” She trailed off, a blissed out look on her face. “Alright, let’s eat this cake and then fuck like bunnies.”

 

“I can’t believe I thought your stamina was just a running gag,” Derek stated in wonder, watching transfixed as Stiles practically felated the fork. Her eyes fluttered closed and the sound she made was like music to his ears.

 

“Nope,” Stiles sighed. “I could do this all day.”

 

“Did you even sleep the last four hours?”

 

“Yeah. After I rubbed one out when you crashed. That’s not a slight on your part, by the way - you were phenomenal with that whole delaying gratification thing. I just made the mistake of looking at your body too long and I needed to take care of little Stiles before I grabbed some Zs.”

 

“Right. Now could you start treating that fork like a utensil and not like a phallic lollipop? It’s distracting me.” Derek glared and took a bite of his own cake. “You did realize that we couldn’t really have sex for the whole day, right? Pretty sure it would be physically impossible, even for a werewolf.”

 

“Sure we could,” Stiles scoffed. (Then she licked the chocolate off of her fork in a way that was just too obscene not to be exaggerated.) “Normal human couples do it all the time. I think. I've read about it, anyway. Why not us? You’re a werewolf, I’m a human with a higher-than-average libido and orgasm counter. With the proper rest and hydration, we could totally sex marathon the hell out of my birthday.”

 

He rolled his eyes at that and tried not to watch as Stiles continued her show with her cake. “We can have sex through the day, but we couldn’t have it the whole day. For one, I’m not a teenager and I can’t get it up minutes after I've already come.”

 

“Well, me neither, you nay-sayer. Refractory periods are perfect for little snoozes and snack breaks or sweet, sappy cuddles. I want the whole shebang, baby; it’s my birthday, and this is what I’ve always wanted.”

 

“Always?”

 

“Ever since I figured out that sex was a many splendored thing. This is seriously amazing cake, Derek. I think I’m gonna marry it, ‘kay.”

 

He shrugged, finishing off his own piece. “I guess that’s fine, since the cake won’t last much longer. If it was something that wasn’t edible, though, I might be jealous.”

 

She fake gasped, putting a hand over her heart. “So you would make me a widow? That’s horrible, I would have to wear black and you _know_ how much I like colors.”

 

“You’d get over it soon enough,” he promised, licking his own fork clean and standing. As ridiculous as it sounded, he felt himself preen when Stiles’ attention fell away from his cake to the sight of his naked cock. She licked her lips and it was easy enough to attribute that to himself as well. “Whenever you’re done with that, meet me in the bedroom. But don’t tell your husband.”

 

“Who said the cake was a dude?” she squawked after him as he retreated to his room.

 

Derek rested on the bed, and looked up when Stiles burst in, mouth still full of cake, obviously having scarfed it down. “He/she will be missed.”

 

“Oh my god I cannot believe you just said he/she. You’re so ridiculous.” Stiles sat down on the bed, crawling up close to him, looking excited. She saw that Derek had a condom in his hand, and she bit her lip to try and stop smiling, which was hopeless.

 

“You’ve got chocolate in your teeth,” he pointed out, and because she was five years old, Stiles flashed him a toothy grin in all its chocolatey glory.

 

“I couldn’t help it! You give me two options: Eat cake or get fucked. Which one am I supposed to choose? So I chose both. I can have my cake and eat it too.”

 

He shook his head. “I’m not fucking you when you look like you’re missing teeth.” Derek said, even though the truth was that he absolutely _would_ if she was actually missing teeth. He would probably fuck her no matter what.

 

Stiles groaned and spent a few seconds trying to clean her teeth with her tongue, occasionally opening her mouth so Derek could tell her how she did. Eventually he said she got all of it.

 

“Does that mean I’m gonna have to get dentures when I’m too old for teeth?” she asked plaintively, scooting up against his side and nosing under his chin to kiss Derek’s throat. Like that didn’t drive the wolf absolutely insane.

 

“Who says you’ll lose your teeth? Now let’s stop talking about this, I need you wet for me, and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.” He said it matter of factly, pressing forward so that they were closer.

 

She laughed at that, and grabbed the condom out of his hand. “Who says I’m not wet already?”

 

Without preamble, he reached down to check. She jolted and tilted her pelvis into his touch. “Definitely wet,” he agreed, probing two fingers inside. Stiles dropped the condom on his chest and rested her forehead there, canting her hips to fuck herself further onto his fingers.

 

“You feel so hot down here,” Derek said with amazement. He crooked his fingers slightly, trying to see if he could find her spot.

 

Stiles groaned, her eyes falling shut. “No, n-ahh, no, you were gonna put it in. Come on Derek, fuck me, please.”

 

Derek made a little noise of appeasement and let his fingers slide out. He reached for the condom on his chest, but then thought better of it. “You wanna try to put it on me?” he asked. “My hand’s a little...”

 

“Yeah, yeah, gimme,” she grunted, sitting up and tearing the package open. She took it out, and rolled it on him as if she had done it thousands of times. Derek looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she shrugged. “My dad’s a cop. He may have been awkward with the safe sex thing, but he made me put a condom on a cucumber more times than I can count.” At the mention of cucumbers, he looked down pointedly at his dick and smirked, and Stiles snorted with a little squeeze to it. “Well, we know someone’s certainly got himself a fair bit of pride in his meat stick.”

 

“That’s probably the least sexy name for it I’ve ever heard,” Derek informed her, taking her hips in his hands to steady her as she wiggled in his lap.

 

Stiles moved so that she was right over his crotch, Derek’s cock poking at her thigh. “What would you rather I call it? Disco stick? Like Lady GaGa. I could sing it for you.”

 

“No thanks, I didn’t even like that song when  _she_ sang it.”

 

“But you’d love it if I did, right?” Stiles slowly slid herself over his cock, warm and slick, and Derek shuddered under her. Stiles giggled a little breathlessly. “Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick...”

 

“I’m sure I can find a gag here somewhere,” he threatened weakly. His hands cupped her ass and thighs when she did it again, grinding against him.

 

Stiles slid back again, feeling the condom tug on her skin slightly. “I know something you could stuff me with, but it wouldn’t be in my mouth,” she said, obviously trying for dirty talk, but the goofy grin she wore kind of ruined it. Depending on your definition of ruined, of course, because it just made Derek feel grossly fond of her.

 

“There a reason you look so pleased at the idea?”

 

“You’d miss my melodious voice, wolfboy, don’t even try to deny... oh man, that’s - you feel amazing, Der, fuck.”

 

He grunted, bucking his hips up. She squealed, falling to rest her hands on his chest for balance. “You just gonna grind on me all morning?”

 

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” she sniffed. But she still reached down and grabbed him, amazed at how fucking thick he was, and guided his cock to her sex. Stiles was biting her lip in concentration, and Derek wondered if she knew it was so distracting for him. But nothing could distract him from when she pushed down, and he slid inside. Stiles let out a tiny yelp and gripped his sides, sitting up a little on her thighs. He slipped out and she took him in her hand, easing down on him again. “Sorry,” Stiles gasped, sinking slowly. “Needed a better angle. Oh fuck, Der.”

 

“Better angle?”

 

She laughed. "Definitely. C'mon, stallion. Work with me here."

 

He thrust his hips up, the heat surrounding him as she took his cock to the hilt. Derek gripped her hips, helping her move up and down. "Someone's eager, fuck," he grunted, Stiles setting a quick pace.

 

"I really love your dick," she laughed, rotating her hips in slow circles until Derek's eyes rolled back in his head. "I've wanted to do this for-fucking-ever. Geez, you're big. Oh!" Her hips jumped a little.

 

Derek gave a grin, knowing he had just hit her spot. "Feel good?" He reached down to her cunt, so that he could finger her clit at the same time.

 

"Derek," she gasped, closing her eyes, brows scrunched up in a little wrinkle above her eyes, "I'm gonna come."

 

"W... now?"

 

And she squeaked, convulsing around him until dots of white floated in front of Derek's eyes and then she slumped over, panting and gyrating her hips atop him. "Yeah," she sighed.

 

"Fuck," he said, a little breathlessly. Derek reached up to hold her in place, and then rolled them so she was laying on the bed. Derek started thrusting his hips while holding her legs, and kissed her ankle.

 

Stiles' jaw was slack and her lips parted prettily to let out the littlest noises as she tried to come down for her orgasm while Derek was nearing his. She licked at her lips and reached up to cup Derek's face, squeezing around him until he gasped. "C'mon, wolf boy. Fuck me. Mark me." She hooked one leg around his shoulder, and the angle made them both give out a groan.

 

Derek thrust into her, trying to hold back a little since this _was_ her first time, and he bent down to suck and bite at her neck along with his thrusts.

 

“Better than a toy?” he huffed, feeling himself nearing the brink, and Stiles laughed. The way her body shook when she did made Derek shudder and drop his forehead to her shoulder, jackrabbiting into her until he came and came, teeth at her pale, fragile skin. There was a low whine bouncing off the walls, and when he came down, Derek realized that it was his and tried to quiet it into soft whimpers as she tutted and smoothed the damp hair from his brow.

 

As soon as he caught his breath, Derek pulled out and took the condom off, tossing it into the bin. Then he flopped down beside Stiles in a boneless heap, pulling her toward him. He pressed his nose into her hair, smelling the sweet shampoo, and closed his eyes. “You’re amazing.”

 

She made a pleased little noise and draped a heavy arm over his hip. “For my birthday, you gave me a criminal hour of facetime with my clit, a vibe I’ve had my eye on for centuries, the most decadent cake I’ve ever eaten, and you’re giving me my sex marathon and keeping up pretty well. Who’s amazing?”

 

He smiled and hid in her hair. “Go to sleep. Maybe we’ll use the vibrator when we wake up.” Derek grabbed the sheet and pulled it up both their bodies, because they were completely naked and there was a bit of a chill in the air. Stiles giggled softly against his throat and situated one of her legs snugly between his.

 

“Amazing.”

 

“Shh.”

 

“Derek, you’re wonderful.”

 

“Sleep.”

 

“Der-bear. Honeybunch. Manmeat.”

 

“Stiles.”

 

“I love you.”

 

He sighed and kissed her forehead. “I love you too. Now sleep.”

  
She was still grinning wildly as she closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends part one. Next chapter, we'll be jumping a few years into the future. We hope you're all very excited for it. :)


	8. Part II

“Oh no! Oh no! Where’d she go?” A shrill giggle went off beyond the darkness of her cupped hands. Stiles grinned. “Where’s Mommy? Where’s she gone? Why’s she left her baby with severe abandonment issues? Wait!” She gasped, parting her hands to bat wide eyes at the baby in the grass before her. “Here she is! Oh no, I thought she was gone forever!” Stiles reached down and tickled the little girl’s round belly until she was out of breath from laughter. “Oh Lola, look at your beautiful smile. That one tooth looks better on you than it does for most of our relatives down south, oh yes it does!” Lola wiggled her feet in the air and Stiles caught them with both hands, rubbing her thumbs along the tiny appendages.

 

Stiles flipped the giggling one year old around on the grass, and Lola ended with her diapered butt sticking in the air. Derek walked over from the deck and picked her up, swinging her in a wide arc into the air. “I’ve saved you, princess, never fear.”

 

She was still giggling as he brought her down to rest on his hip. Derek glanced down at Stiles, a smirk on his lips. "You sure you should be running around after a one year old in your condition?" he asked teasingly. After all, if anyone tried to tell Stiles that she should be on bed rest, they would probably be missing a testicle.

 

“Should you be out of bed to do anything but please me since you put me in this condition?” she asked back. Lola pawed at the dark beard along his jaw and Derek turn to snap his teeth at her little fingers, earning another peal of laughter.

 

“This doesn’t please you?” he asked, and then Lola was tilting her head on his shoulder and rubbing her cheek there to scent him, and - dammit.

 

“Alright, fair enough. I am appeased. Now.” She made grabby hands and Derek snorted, crouching down to deposit the little girl in between them.

 

“Any progress?” he asked, lifting her gently by the hands until Lola was upright, albeit in an uncertain, wobbly state. Stiles straightened the child’s little blue dress and shook her head.

 

“Nope. Still too many jelly legs on my octopus,” she cooed, and Lola made a little noise at her. “And she still sounds more like a wolf cub than a human. Way to go, Daddy’s victorious sperm.”

 

The small child sat heavily on her butt and started pulling at her curly pigtails. There were two nestled on either side of the nape of her neck, and Stiles thought they were adorable. Lola started crawling over to her, making cute little growling noises. “Maybe we should be happy. Once she learns how to walk there will be no stopping her.” Stiles reached over to pick her up, mindful of her round stomach. “My little girl is gonna be a runner, isn’t she? Yes she is.”

 

Derek sat down behind Stiles, legs around her, and put his chin on her shoulder. He held a hand out to their daughter, wiggling his fingers until she grabbed it. “I think this one will be a boy.”

 

“Oh my gosh, Derek, I told you not to spoil the surprise!” Stiles cried theatrically, and Lola’s giggles died down when she started sniffing at the air. “And look, now your animal kid is acting on instinct again. There will never be a day when I’m used to this.”

 

“Trouble in paradise?” Laura’s voice called from halfway across the yard. Lola mewled and leaned against her mother’s belly as her aunt approached.

 

“You wish,” Stiles snorted. “Truth is, we’ve been on the brink of divorce since we _met_.”

 

“Our relationship’s never really worked out,” Derek agreed, nuzzling Stiles’ neck with his nose. And she wondered where Lola got her wolfman behavior from.

 

Laura chuckled and sat down on the grass with them, even though it must have been uncomfortable in her tight jeans. Lola grew still as she sniffed the air, but seemed to recognize her aunt’s smell. She finally caught Derek’s finger and started gnawing on it with mostly her gums.

 

“She’s pretty smart, you know. Relies on her instincts.” Laura commented, watching Lola chew Derek’s finger. She leaned forward, a grin on her face. “Usually a good sign of a future Alpha.”

 

Stiles snorted at that. “She can’t even walk yet; let’s leave conversations about pack dynamics until we’ve at least talked about preschool.”

 

Meanwhile, Lola had grown bored with Derek’s finger, and started chewing on her own foot. She was definitely Stiles’ child.

 

“If you say so,” Laura shrugged, though she watched Lola with keen interest. Nobody looked at a kid trying to gum her own toes off with _interest_. “Still, one day you should probably address it. She’s got a... scent.”

 

“That was the voice you use when you try to sound mysterious and cryptic, but really, even you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles snorted. Laura narrowed her eyes.

 

“Maybe I don’t, but that’s what Mom said, so I get to be cryptic and mysterious all I want.”

 

“Aren’t you in your thirties? Because you sound like a five-year-old,” Stiles snickered.

 

Laura shrugged and glanced over to Derek. “I trust my mother, Stiles. If she says that Lola smells like a future Alpha then I believe her. You should be flattered; to have conceived an Alpha inherent is an incredible honor, especially for a human.” She stood up and dusted off her jeans. “I just came over to tell you that you’re invited to dinner on Friday. There’s an omega who has requested a meeting.” As she said the last part she rolled her eyes, showing how much she cared for the formal part of running a pack. Laura bent down to kiss Stiles on the forehead as she walked by.

 

“You didn’t kiss my baby!” she yelled after Laura, and lifted Lola to cover her face in kisses herself. “Kings and presidents have to kiss babies, right? Why not alphas?”

 

“It’s not-”

 

“I was asking Lola,” Stiles cut him off, raising her up by the armpits and turning her back and forth. “Lola, are you gonna break away from the Hale pack and start your own secret werewolf club because your auntie withheld affection?” Lola giggled and blew a bubble with her spit. “The alpha has spoken.”

 

Derek chuckled and wiped the spit off with his sleeve. At that Stiles sighed. “Wow, you are now officially a father. You should really think about changing that shirt shirt. Dad’s coming for dinner, and he deserves to see my trophy spouse dressed in something classier than spit-stained shirts.” With Derek’s help, she stood up from the grass, picking Lola up and putting her on a wide hip. “I’m gonna put her in that yellow dress that he bought her, that should make him happy. It’s criminally cute on her.”

 

“Or it will be until she gets half of her dinner all over it.”

 

“You hear that, baby?” Stiles whispered in Lola’s ear. “Your daddy thinks you’re a messy puppy. As the alpha, you can cow him into submission until he apologizes.” The child crooned when Stiles dangled her in front of Derek, wiggling her about until Derek finally caved and snatched her up. “Success!”

 

“Just for making a mockery of my culture, your dad gets bacon on his burger.”

 

“What?” Stiles squawked as he walked inside. “We’re totally not having burgers! Derek!”

 

//

 

Talia opened the door for them, and hardly even offered a hello before she made googoo eyes at Lola and picked her up from the stroller. Stiles shook her head, one hand on her stomach. "It's almost like she only invites us for our kid." Not that she could complain - the sheriff did the same thing.

 

"That _is_ the only reason she invites us," Derek agreed sullenly, swooping down to kiss the crown of his mother's head before she could disappear with their daughter. "Hi, Mom. It's nice to see you too. We brought wine."

 

"Bringing wine to a werewolf meeting, huh." Talia looked pointedly at Stiles. "You made him."

 

"It's about the gesture, not getting drunk, geez," Stiles groaned. "Most people would just smile and accept it gracefully. And not steal my baby."

 

"I can do the first part," Talia said, taking the bottle of red from Derek's hand. "The second, not a chance."

 

As they moved into the dinning room, Stiles figured about half the Hales were here. So it wasn't such a big dinner that everyone had to come, but it was big enough that the fine china was out. Stiles watched Lola sniff the air and looking a little wary with this many people, but she still seemed happy enough in her grandmother's arms.

 

Laura grinned and waved conspicuously at Stiles, patting the chair next to her. Derek put a hand on her back, and Stiles rolled her eyes at the touch, but allowed him to accompany her to the chair.

 

"I wonder how many times you'll have to be pregnant before this becomes a habit he just starts acting like this all the time," Laura snickered.

 

"I think he enjoys taking care of me way too much," Stiles agreed, and Derek looked over to her with a raised eyebrow that said 'I'm _right_ here'. Stiles grinned.

 

Talia put a glass of orange juice in front of Stiles, and Lola reached for her mother. She looked reluctant to hand her over though, and Stiles laughed when she eventually put the baby in her mother's arms. "It's not fair... you get to hold her all day. When do I get to hold her? Never. You need to come visit more often. And you know I offered to babysit."

 

"I don't have work until summer's over anyway," Stiles laughed, balancing Lola on her knees. "And Lola's an easy kid. It's not like I need a ton of free time."

 

"I don't think that was a request for your benefit," Laura whispered conspiratorially, and Talia looked like she'd like to throw a dinner roll at her daughter's head, but was regrettably too mature.

 

Stiles looked up at her, bouncing Lola on her lap. "Or, well, maybe Derek and I could use a date night? I'm not due for another six weeks, so maybe one night you wouldn't mind babysitting?" Of course, her dad might not be happy that _he_ wasn't called for it, but he could be asked another time.

 

Talia's face lit up at that. "Definitely! Just let me know when. Now that I'm not Alpha I have all the time in the world. Just drop her on my doorstep any time." And with that she sauntered to the kitchen to check on the food with an air of victory about her.

 

Stiles looked over to Derek, who was watching her. She gave a shrug, knowing that he didn't really like leaving their daughter at all, but it was with his mother so she would be alright.

 

"You're gonna have to wean yourself from her sometime, Big Bad." Derek just frowned, and she reached up to squeeze the back of his neck.

 

"Oh gross, not at the table, you two," Laura gagged.

 

Stiles stuck out her tongue and took a gulp of her juice, handing Lola her sippy cup. Then there was a knock on the door and Laura stood up, straightening her clothes. "Well, that must be our guest."

 

After a minute she came back, a ragged looking man following behind her. "Everyone, this is Greg, formerly of the Armstrong pack. Please, take a seat." She gestured toward a chair between two of the more intimidating members of the pack. Could never be too careful with an omega, after all.

 

To his left Peter smiled beatifically, and to his right Derek's father looked so chill that one could almost believe the meeting wasn't more than just a family get together. The smells from the kitchen were enticing, even to Stiles' inferior nose, but she couldn't help but notice that Talia seemed in no rush to bring any of it out. Her stomach grumbled, and while none of the other wolves paid it any mind out of courtesy, Lola looked up at her in surprise.

 

The cheeky squirt.

 

“Well,” Laura started, greeting the guest. “Why don’t we get started. To begin, we offer condolences for your pack. You’ve been on your own for... three years now, is it? We don’t know all the details of the accident, so if you could start there...”

 

Stiles sighed, realizing that they wouldn’t be eating until they had well and truly milked him of all the information they wanted for integration. She sneakily excused herself, muttering something about Lola needing changing. Once in the bathroom she took out the crackers that she always kept in the child’s diaper bag, munching on them while Lola played with the bar of soap. “Don’t judge me, I’m pregnant and hungry. If you were hungry you would have made a big scene and you know it.” Her daughter just grinned at her with her half formed teeth. Stiles grinned back and kissed her daughter’s dark curls. “If you had more chompers, I’d give you one. Unless you want me to go sort of mama-baby bird? I could soften them with my spit... is that too gross? That’s probably too gross. You don’t care, you suck your own toes. Are you even hungry or have you eaten them all?”

 

Lola burbled something at her when Stiles checked to make sure all her toes were there, counting them one by one. When she got to ten, she had three crackers stuffed attractively in her mouth and Lola was gumming one all by herself.

 

After that there was a knock on the door, and Derek’s voice was amused. “Stop munching on crackers and come get something real to eat. I’m sure my mom would be happy to feed you before she brings the food out.”

 

At the mention of food, Stiles opened the door and picked up Lola and her baby bag. “What kind of real food?”

 

“Anything you want, I’m sure. How about some mashed potatoes?” He grabbed the bag from her and bent to give their daughter a kiss.

 

“Aren’t we supposed to be making a good impression on the guest or something? Or at least be there for the interrogation?”

 

“You didn’t last five minutes of the interrogation before you made up a lie to eat crackers in the bathroom,” he reminded her.

 

“Well yeah, but that’s because I need sustenance to power my behemoth body, not because I didn’t want to watch your sister grill a shaggy homeless dude.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes and led them to the kitchen, where Talia was already making a small plate of goodies which she handed to Stiles with a grin before taking Lola off her hands. Derek leaned against the counter, pulling her close as she ate. “I don’t think he has much of a chance anyway. He lied when he said how his wife and kid died. Not a good sign.”

 

Stiles looked at him, mouth half full with mashed potatoes. “Seriously? Why would someone lie about that?”

 

And he didn’t wrinkle any parts of his face in disgust. Definitely a keeper.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Talia answered for him, feeding Lola a spoonful of pureed... something-or-other. It was orange and probably healthy and it didn’t end up dribbled down the kid’s face, so Stiles approved. “Dead pack or no, it’s critical to be completely straightforward with the pack you’re trying to enter – as painful as it may be, you have to prove you’re willing to give yourself to the pack if they’re every going to take you in. He’s already set a precedent for himself that he can’t be trusted.”

 

She looked between them and swallowed the mouthful she had. “Wow, didn’t realize it was so hard to get in the pack. Guess I just got lucky?”

 

Derek shook his head. “It was different with you. You were with the family since you were a kid. There was really no way you couldn’t have ended up in the pack.”

 

“But now that you’ve given me grandbabies, you can be disposed of,” Talia cooed to Lola, who cupped her nose. The traitor. Stiles wrapped her arms around her round belly and sniffed.

 

“Lola was a lost cause to your grandmotherly wiles, but just for that, I’m holding this one as ransom!”

 

“You’re both insane,” Derek informed them, “and I’m going to take both of the children and leave you two to fight it out to the death.”

 

“There can only be one,” Stiles gravely agreed, and Derek kissed her forehead. She sighed and stuffed the last few grapes into her mouth. “Okay, fine. Let’s go support your sister so we can hurry up and eat.”

 

“I suppose we should,” Talia agreed, but didn’t hand Lola over, too busy tipping her upside down and making funny noises at her. Stiles shook her head, a grin on her face. “I’m not sure if we’re ever gonna get her back. Our first born has been lost to the hands of the grandparent, a fate most children never recover from.” She walked into the dining room, where the tension was fairly thick, but seemed to be broken when Lola made a screeching laugh. Everyone turned to look at her, most with fond smiles on their faces.

 

Talia grinned and grabbed Lola’s hand, getting her to wave at everyone. Laura stood, gesturing for them to sit, and Stiles turned to take Lola. “Do you want her to play with the other children in the nursery?” Talia asked quietly, and Stiles considered it, but Derek answered before she could.

 

“No. I’ll hold her.” He sounded oddly tense. Stiles nodded and handed her over, looking at Derek and raising an eyebrow. She could tell that his spider senses were tingling, and that was never a good sign. But Derek just shrugged and held Lola on his lap.

 

Laura was still asking the omega questions, most of them going over Stiles’ head, about lineage and such. Eventually they brought out the food, and the questions slowed down, even if they didn’t completely stop. For the longest time, every little peek Stiles took at the boxed in omega, he was just staring into space in the same spot. His zoned-out look didn’t waver as he was asked question after question and gave quiet little answers all through the meal, and Stiles could almost feel her husband’s hackles rise.

 

After the dinner and dessert was finished, Derek stood up with Lola and gestured to Stiles to get the bag. “Sorry Laura, it’s already way past her bedtime. We should get going.”

 

“Aww, okay, sleep well little one.”

 

“I meant Stiles’ bedtime,” Derek joked with a small smile. Laura walked them to the door and kissed each one on the cheeks, Lola three times.

 

“Thanks for coming. It’s always good to show our strength when we have an outsider here. And this is your daily reminder: you have to promise me that when you go into labour, you call me and I’ll be there, alright? I am not missing the birth of my nephew.”

 

Stiles groaned, hand on her stomach. “Shut up, I didn’t hear that, I still don’t know what you’re going to be,” she mumbled to her stomach.

 

In the car, once Lola was buckled in within an inch of her life and they were settled in, Stiles turned to Derek. “Okay, spill. What the hell is up with you tonight?” Derek schooled his expression when he realized he was starting to look surprised and Stiles thwapped him on the arm. “Don’t you dare try to keep things from me.”

  
“There was something off about that omega,” he finally said, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “He kept staring at Lola.”

 

“He did? I didn’t notice.” Stiles she was sure that she would have been able to tell if someone was staring at her baby.

 

He shook his head, glancing in the rear-view mirror to check on her. “Just quick glances, you probably wouldn’t have seen. But... I didn’t like it. Doesn’t matter, Laura will turn him down and get him out of our territory, and we’ll never see him again.”

 

Stiles adjusted the seat belt so it wasn’t biting into her stomach. “Well. He wouldn’t be any match for your big strong muscles, now would he?” She grabbed Derek’s hand, pressing it to her belly. “Peanut’s kicking, feel it?”

 

It never failed to make him relax, and this time was no exception. Derek glanced over at her and turned his hand around to squeeze hers. “Stiles.”

 

“Mmhmm?”

 

“Lola was only acceptable because I was able to get used to it over time. ‘Peanut’ stands no chance in hell.”

 

She laughed at that, bringing Derek’s hand up to kiss it and bite at one of the knuckles. “I’m only using Peanut as a placeholder because I don’t know what it is yet, and _don’t even_ say it. We painted the walls yellow for a reason. I’m sure we’ll come up with a much more respectable and boring name when Peanut is born.”

 

“Lola’s a respectable name?”

 

Narrowing her eyes, Stiles grumbled, “It’s adorable and unique, _Derek_. And the second sprog in my gut will have an equally adorable, unique name. Because my babies are extraordinary, and they should have befitting names.”

 

“Adorable and unique like Geni-”

 

Stiles put her hand over his mouth and glared. “You finish that name and I will maim you. Now I’ll get Lola ready for bed if you put the mountain of food Laura gave us in the fridge when we get home.” She pulled her hand away which was now wet with Derek’s breath, and possibly his tongue. The little girl was slumped down in her carseat and mewled when Stiles lifted her out once they’d arrived at home, wrapping her tiny limbs around whatever parts of Stiles she could, like an octopus. Stiles cradled her close as she walked up to the front porch of their home, waiting for Derek to fish out his keys and unlock the door.

 

When Lola had been wiped clean of any leftovers from dinner and tucked away in her crib, Stiles stumbled toward the master bathroom for a shower. She stripped along the way, leaving a trail of clothes in her wake so she was practically naked by the time she got there, which left only her panties to wiggle out of before she hopped into the shower.

 

After she got her hair all wet, the door opened and then Derek was stepping inside behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting on her belly, and sucked lightly on her neck. Stiles sighed against him, leaning her head back. “I remember our first shower. It was so hot. And the water was pretty warm too.” She chortled at her own joke, turning around and moving as close as her stomach would allow. Derek cupped the back of her skull and kissed her sloppily, perhaps in fond recollection of that same first time. Stiles’ fingers stroked over his jaw and the dark, mountain man-esque beard that always looked to be in the works these days. It wasn’t so long that she could get a grasp of it between her fingers, but it was dark enough that it nearly smothered his jaw and chin, and fuck, it was sexy.

 

Derek kissed down her jaw, his beard rubbing at her skin, but he was always careful not to spend too long in one place so she wouldn’t get beard burn. He moved to Stiles’ throat, and then down to her breasts, which had swollen with her pregnancy. He didn’t suck at them, mostly because Stiles was always unnecessarily worried she'd start lactating, but he thumbed the nipple, knowing how it made her knees weak. He didn’t do it as hard as he used to, because Stiles would complain for the whole next day about how much they hurt if he did, but she still had a beautiful reaction to it.

 

“This is awesome, don’t get me wrong,” Stiles groaned, dragging her nails over Derek’s back, “but I’m a walking cliche, and I’d rather be a horizontal cliche - my ankles are killing me.” Derek obediently handed her the soap. “Thanks, boo.”

 

Sometimes Stiles hated Derek’s coddling to the deepest pits of hell. Sometimes it made her want to tear out her hair and shove him out a window. Sometimes it drove her to running off to her father’s office to rail about over-attentive men and women who really weren’t just suddenly helpless waifs when there was a child growing inside them.

 

But then sometimes, when he washed her back and her legs and her belly when her arms were tired, or when he towel-dried her when it was hard to move, or when he laid her out in bed and lifted her ankles in his lap to make it all better... sometimes then she didn’t mind so much.

  
As it was, Stiles found herself drifting off to sleep before Derek had even finished with her feet, completely content with his attentiveness. She spared no second thought at all to the bizarre dinner. 

 

In hindsight, it was an unwise dismissal indeed.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles grabbed a cluster of bananas, and reached over Lola to put them in the cart. “Der-bear, can you get the apples?”

 

“Abbo,” Lola chirped from her seat in the cart, and Stiles looked down at her in surprise.

 

“Oh my god, baby did you just say apples? Derek, did you hear that?! Okay, dumb question, but she said apples!” Stiles cupped her little cheeks and tickled the sides of Lola's neck. “Oh baby, we’re gonna get you all the apples you want! What’s that, her fourth word?”

 

Derek put the bag in the cart before he reached over to run his hand over Lola's hair. “Yeah, fourth word. I think she’s catching on that whenever she says something, you get excited and give her things.”

 

“That’s because mommy likes to positively reinforce achievements and good behavior,” Stiles cooed, kissing Lola all over her face. The baby squealed in delight and batted at Stiles’ cheeks and neck. “Say it again? Apples?”

 

“Mammmma.”

 

“Even better!”

 

Stiles looked through the cart, trying to think of what else they would need. “Oh pickles! Hey, why don’t you wait in line with the cart, and we’ll go get pickles?” she asked, picking up Lola from the cart and lifting her onto her shoulders.

 

Derek nodded and started pushing the cart away. “If you get distracted, I’m not waiting in line for pickles, no matter how much you crave them.”

 

She waved him away, and looked up at Lola. “Yes he will. He likes to try and sound stern and heartless, but he's really just a big ol' cuddlewolf. Now, which aisle should pickles be in?” Lola just pulled at Stiles’ curls and made her little nonsensical noises, and that was as good an answer as any. But Stiles froze when they turned the corner of their aisle, because someone disappeared farther up the lane, and she could have sworn... “You smell anything suspicious, little alpha?” she muttered, but at that point, Lola was probably too distracted by putting strands of Stiles’ hair in her mouth to care whether or not her mother was being paranoid.

 

“Well, I think your mamma might be going crazy.” Stiles said, chuckling. She found the pickles and grabbed the biggest jar, and then went to the check out where Derek was already halfway through putting everything on the counter. He looked up when she got closer, frowning.

 

“Are you alright? You look worried.”

 

Stiles shrugged, handing Lola over so she could grab her wallet. “You don’t... smell anything weird, do you? Anyone?”

 

Derek took a second to sniff around, trying to look normal while doing it, and shrugged. “There are too many smells in here to tell, unless I’m looking for someone specific. Why?”

 

“No reason. I’m probably a little delirious from my never-ending, all-consuming hunger and our child’s great accomplishments. If you grab me a king sized Twix from the bottom shelf, I’ll love you forever.”

 

“Was there any question that you already would?” he asked, but then he grabbed her two, so she just kissed his cheek.

* * *

 

Stiles craned her neck back to look in the back seat, trying to calm Lola down. “Hey, don’t cry like that, he’ll be back soon! Daddy just had to go to Sacramento. Won’t be there more than a day, I promise, and then you’ll be able to rub your scent all over him.” Of course it didn’t really work. Lola always hated it when she couldn’t feel one of her parents, but it really couldn’t be helped this time. They were building a new coffee shop in the city, and Derek and Laura had to go see how it was doing.

 

Lola’s bottom lip folded up over her top one, and her eyes were wet as she stared back at Stiles. Heart melting, Stiles reached back and took her hand as they pulled up on their street. “He’ll probably be home much sooner than that anyway,” she tried to amend, nearing their home. “Daddy hates it when he can’t hear our heartbeats, just as much as you do.”

 

“Daaaaa,” Lola sniffed, two fat tears rolling down her chubby red cheeks.

 

“We’ll give him big hugs when he gets home, okay?” Stiles turned off the car in the drive and hefted herself out. Lola held her arms up when Stiles started to unbuckle her. “And I’ll give you a big hug right now, just let me... ugh, these car seats...”

 

Lola stopped crying, and that really should have been Stiles’ first clue. There was a shuffling of feet behind her, and Stiles whipped around, Lola in her arms.

 

“You know, you really have an amazing daughter,” the omega said, looking at them both, hands in his pockets. If possible he looked even more ragged than before.

 

Stiles felt her heart beating wildly in her chest, and backed up to the car. “Not to be rude, but if the Hales sense that you’re still in their territory, they’ll rip you a new hole.”

 

The omega took another step forward and straightened up to his full height. “The Hales haven’t noticed me yet, why should they now? Especially when most of the important ones are out of town.” His gaze fell on Lola, who was totally wolfed out in her mother’s arms. “Well. Besides _her_ , of course.”

 

Lola made a sound Stiles had never heard before, and her little claws dug into Stiles’ arm. “Not that this conversation isn’t totally creepy and uncomfortable, but I’m just gonna...”

 

“I have a proposition for you.”

 

“No.” Stiles narrowed her eyes. “You don’t. Whatever it is, I refuse on principle. If my pack didn’t want you-”

 

The omega growled, and Lola outright  _snarled_ , which seemed to slowly pacify the guy. All it did for Stiles was ratchet up her anxiety.

 

He still stepped forward, and Stiles pulled Lola hard against her chest. “I’ll leave your pack alone, I’ll never come back. I just need... I need an Alpha.” His eyes were trained on Lola, and Stiles slowly reached into her pocket for the canister she always had dangling from her keychain. “You’re about to have another one anyway, surely-”

 

“Are you fucking insane?! Get back!” She held out the canister, fingertip atop the nozzle. Despite the frantic beat of her heart, Stiles found her voice and hands totally steady. “Leave us alone. If you come anywhere near my baby, I swear to god I’ll hurt you more than any wolf ever could.”

 

The omega snarled, his face changing and contorting until there were two gold eyes staring at her from under a heavy brow. But he did back up.

 

Stiles still held the pepper spray laced with wolfsbane up, edging around the vehicle and closer to the house. Then she ran for it, Lola tight in her grip. She was fortunate enough to have been given a warning with the short, excited howl, because she was at least somewhat mentally prepared when when she reached the front door and a heavy weight barrelled into her. There was no way to have kept Lola and herself from getting bodychecked, so Stiles only just managed to cup the back of Lola’s head to protect her from the brunt of the damage hitting a wall could inflict. Stiles gasped at the sharp pain along her side where she’d been able to turn and take most of the damage. The omega’s claws sank into her arm, and with a cry of anger, Stiles caught him right in the face with the wolfsbane mace. He howled and stumbled back, falling on his ass, and Stiles wasted no time nailing him with the heel of her boot right in the balls before she limped over to the door and unlocked it with shaken hands. Once inside, she locked the door twice and slid the deadbolt in place, pressing her hand to the protection rune one of the Hale’s old family friends had put in place. It was only when the whole house was flooded with a dull golden light that faded within minutes did she notice Lola whimpering and licking the bleeding wounds on Stiles’ shoulder.

 

“Oh, baby, don’t lick that,” she breathed, stumbling over to the sofa and setting Lola down before she could drop her.

 

Once Lola was safe on the couch, Stiles limped to the kitchen. There was blood dripping down her arm, and the side of her stomach hurt worse than it probably should, but she couldn't rest yet. The protection runes worked quickly, but didn't last forever. She grabbed the bag of mountain ash that Deaton had given them for a wedding gift and they had never used. As quickly as possible, she went to all the doors and windows, and put a line in front of them.

 

Outside the omega was pacing, the skin around his eyes an angry red from the mace. He snarled when he saw her through a window.

 

"Fuck off, Fido," she shouted back, and Lola whined after her from the living room. "It's okay, sweetheart," she called, calming her voice to a more soothing lilt. "Everything's gonna be okay. Mommy's not gonna let the bad wolf make eyes at you again, okay? Fucker thinks he's that douchewolf from Twilight or something," Stiles grumbled to herself, shuffling over to the final window and putting all her belief into it. She'd tilled a thick trench of the stuff around the house years ago, but they'd never needed it before now. She'd always hoped they'd never need it at all.

 

When she was done, she looked up, and the omega was out of sight. That didn't mean he was gone, of course, so she made her way over to the couch, where Lola was trying to get to the floor. Stiles sat down heavily, needing to rest, and then maybe she would take care of the deep gashed on her arm. What she really didn't want to do was wonder why she couldn't feel her baby moving in her belly. He was probably just sleeping, it wasn't anything strange, surely.

 

Beside her, Lola was whining, pressing her face into Stiles' side.

 

"Shh, Lola, you're making me nervous," Stiles breathed, carding one hand through the little girl's hair and the other over her belly. She didn't want to think that something could be wrong. Nothing was wrong. She'd just been hipchecked and clawed. There was absolutely no way...

 

... She was bleeding.

 

Stiles sucked in a breath, looking down, and no, this couldn't be happening, it couldn't. And that's when she felt the first shot of crippling pain in her stomach. It only lasted a moment, but with this being her second pregnancy, there was no mistaking it: contractions. When it was over, Stiles leaned back and felt two fat tears roll down her cheeks. Why was Derek away right now? And why did she leave her cell phone in the car? He needed to be here _now_.

 

In silent hysterics, her mind went to several places at once. The first was that the couch was ruined now - blood was a bitch to get out of cushions, and Lola's carrot stain was flipped on the other side of the one she was bleeding on. The second was a fierce hope that this was one of those false starts she'd read so much about - one of the ones where mothers had pains similar to labor, sometimes more than once a term, and every time they arrived at the hospital, they were told it was a false alarm. The third was that the clock above the wall was telling her that Derek wouldn't be home in at least six hours, and Lola needed to be fed and changed, and the marks on her shoulder needed antiseptic. Stiles thought about calling an ambulance before remembering that her phone was in the car, and the path to it was guarded by a feral omega who wanted her baby girl.

 

In the end all Stiles managed to do was get Lola in her play pen, holding her in one arm and managing to limp her way over there. After all, her arm was still bleeding, and if she started to feel a little faint then she didn't want Lola wandering around by herself. She made it back to the couch before another contraction hit, and she curled in on herself. There was a crash from outside and she really didn't even want to know what the omega was doing now.

 

Lola keened and scratched at the sides of her playpen, which meant claws, which meant she was wolfing out, which meant she was reacting to Stiles' anxiety and pain. Stiles grunted and tried to comfort Lola through her contraction, which became much easier when the pain receded. "Everything's gonna be okay," she panted, slowly sliding from the couch to the floor. "It's gonna be fine, sweet girl. Can you tell me something? Apple. Say apple, Lola."

 

"Mammma!" she whined instead, holding her arms out for Stiles across the room. Stiles really wished she could hold her, but she doubted she had the strength. It would take effort to even move away from the ruined couch at this point.

 

Stiles sniffed and rubbed her nose with her good arm. "It'll be okay, Lola, don't worry. Please don't worry. Daddy should be home in... Well he'll be here by tonight at least."

 

Lola's warbling wail turned into a howl and the pacing outside stopped. Stiles closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. The next contraction wouldn't come for a little while yet. She had time to do - something. The idea of moving at all was so unappealing she felt sick, but Stiles knew she couldn't just sit there all day. Lola needed her, and she needed to help herself. So she crawled to the kitchen, pulling herself up with the aid of the countertop and quickly filled a plastic bag with Lola's juice, a bottle of water, and just shoved in any fruit and snacks she could along the way. Lola howled again and Stiles hastily found the emergency first aid kit under the sink before she limped heavily back to the living room.

 

"Here you go, honey, have some juice." She handed over the sippy cup and squatted down on the floor, breathing heavily.

 

Lola didn't seem to want any juice, and it took a while before she finally stuck the sippy cup to her mouth and her crying slowed down. Stiles gave a thankful sigh, closing her eyes for a second.

 

When she opened them again, she was horizontal when she had not been a split second before, and Lola was, for lack of a better word, prowling along the edge of her playpen. She was growling a sort of non-stop, subvocal noise from her tiny little chest, and she was covered in fur. She'd always moved easier as a wolf cub than a human. "Sorry," Stiles croaked, trying to sit up. Lola pressed herself against the playpen between herself and her mother, whimpering. "I didn't mean to, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Look, we'll both have a bite to eat, and I'll patch myself up. It won't happen again."

 

Stiles looked at the clock, relief flooding her to see that she'd only been out for a few minutes.

 

She grabbed a strawberry, which were always Lola's favorite, and made sure not to get any blood on it as she held it out to her daughter. But Lola didn't reach for it, didn't even look at it, just reached for her mother's hand.

 

Stiles tried again. "Come on, Lola, you need to eat something. I know you're scared, but we're going to be f-" she couldn't finish, pain blossoming across her belly, stronger than before. Her mind strated to all those stories about trauma inducing labour. But it had to stop, she wouldn't actually go the whole way, she couldn't, not like this. Stiles was shaking, and when she opened her hand she realized she had squished the strawberry.

 

"Ah, shit," she hissed, and lowered her shaking hand to pluck at the little intact bits. "Okay, Lola, baby, take a bite. Look, I'll eat some too. See?" Stiles made sure Lola was watching as she licked the strawberry mush from her palm and licked her lips. Then she reached her arm over the side again and Lola regarded it for a moment before she let Stiles push the fruit past her lips. Stiles did it again and again until she'd eaten all the pieces. "Good girl, Lola. Okay, here. Golfish crackers." She opened the package and fed them to Lola one by one until she started to get dizzy again.

 

Stiles scarfed down a banana, and then half of another before handing Lola the rest, and then she set about to cleaning her arm.

 

It stung, and she had to stop twice for contractions, but eventually it was cleaned and bandaged. It was a bit of a sloppy job, but she only had one hand, and she was in a lot of pain.

 

It was about an hour and a half since the contractions had started, and Stiles was really starting to worry that they weren't going to stop. Finally she made up her mind and reached down, taking off her pants and underwear. They were both stained red, making Stiles bite her lip in worry.

 

"That must smell so bad," she muttered apologetically, cleaning off her hands with antiseptic wipe. Lola's nervous pacing stilled, and the quiet nervous growl she'd started up died as Stiles spoke. "It shouldn't be like this. You came out so perfectly. It hurt like hell, but it was so easy; water broke in the shower, we drove to the hospital, you popped out four hours later." Stiles packed away the chemicals after she'd bandaged the claw marks (which hurt like a bitch, and she knew her muscles had been torn, but she had so many other things to worry about) and shoved it away before unlatching the playpen and allowing Lola to come scrambling towards her.

 

She tucked herself against Stiles' side, whimpering in agitation. "You didn't make me bleed like this," Stiles whispered into the coarse fur on her daughter's head. "This isn't right."

* * *

 

The sinking sun had turned the sky a deep, burning orange Derek was drumming his fingers on the door handle, looking out the window. His leg was shaking, and he was the very picture of impatience.

 

Laura reached over and flicked his ear. “Stop it, you’re even managing to make me nervous.”

 

“I can’t help it!" Derek hissed. "Something’s wrong, I know it. Stiles always has her phone with her, and she always calls me back. Can’t you drive faster?” He should be the one driving, had _been_ the one driving until Laura made him stop and trade places when she realized he was going almost 30 miles over the speed limit.

 

“You’re imagining it,” Laura sighed. “You’re being paranoid. Like you always are when you detach yourself from Stiles’ hip.”

 

“You dragged me away from her when she needs me most.”

 

“Oh my  _god_ , you are theatrical,” Laura laughed. “We were in Sacramento, not outer space. We’ll be there in an hour. Maybe she’s taking a nap.”

 

“It’s too late for naps,” he said, staring down at his blank phone. “Lola would be awake from hers now. Stiles would have her phone. She’d at least text. Something’s _wrong_.”

 

Laura rolled her eyes, but she was still accelarating, so she must have believed him at least a little bit. Derek chewed on one fingernail, a habbit he had picked up from Stiles. He wouldn’t say this to his sister, because she would laugh at him even more, but he just  _felt_ that something was wrong, he could tell in his bones, in his stomach, that there was something not right, and it wasn’t because he was away - he had never felt like this before. He needed to be home, right now.

 

They hit the 45 mile marker when he did feel it. Physically. His heart tripped over itself when Lola’s distress came in loud and clear through their bond, and only shortly after, Stiles’ heartbeat reached his ears. Derek snarled, sinking his claws into the Camero’s upholstery despite Laura’s protests. “I can hear their heartbeats. Something  _is_ wrong. If Stiles can’t get her phone, she must be hurt!”

  
Laura’s foot sank on the gas pedal as Derek searched for the sheriff’s name in his contact list.


	10. Chapter 10

Stiles whimpered when the latest contraction left her shaken and unable to so much as sit upright. Lola was curled on her good side, every once in awhile trying to crawl over to her other arm, where blood was soaking the bandage.

Lola whined against her side, the sound a little different than before. “Da,” she whimpered, looking around.

“Daddy isn’t here right now. It’s fine, we don’t need daddy, do we?” But she did need Derek, she needed Derek so badly. But he wasn’t here, so she would have to deal with it alone. Stiles clenched her fist as another contraction hit, less than two minutes from the last one. The floor was such a mess, and faintly Stiles wondered who would clean it up. It was so much blood. Derek wouldn’t be able to stomach it. Laura would probably be the one to do it. When they wheeled Stiles away to... wherever bodies went when they bled out, Laura would have to pick up the pieces. She was the alpha, right? It was her duty. Stiles trusted her to do it.

“Come here, baby,” she hiccupped, burying her face in Lola’s hair. Tears burned hot and wet down her face as she shook, stroking Lola’s back. When she spoke, Lola’s whines and growls blended softly together to a gentle _muhrr_. “I love you so much. When you were born, I - I was so tired. Never been so tired all my life. But it was so worth it, ‘cause when all the blood and goo was gone, you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And you still are.” Lola nuzzled her neck and Stiles braced herself for another painful contraction. “Maybe we’ll go to sleep now,” she said weakly. “Just for a bit, okay? Mommy’s tired.”

She wasn’t sure if she had actually gone to sleep, or if she’d just blacked out, but when she slowly blinked her eyes open, Stiles could hear the sound of tires on gravel.

“Stiles?” That was her father's voice following the slam of a car door, and it was frantic. “Are you in there? Derek called me, he says you haven’t been picking up your phone!” His voice was getting closer, and Stiles tried to yell at him to not move, when she heard him swear. Then there was a growl. “Stay back! I’m armed!”

“That’s your grandpa,” Stiles slurred into Lola’s hair. It was so hard to move. Even keeping her eyes open was a chore. So she didn’t. “He loves you. So much. And he’s being an idiot right now, but... we’ll let that go. He’s a noble idiot.”

She must have passed out again, because the next thing she knew was silence, and all she could see was Lola’s face in front of hers, eyes a sharp, bright blue.

Then another contraction hit, and it was almost like she couldn’t feel anymore, half out of her sluggishly bleeding body.

“Stiles!” A yell came from outside, and Stiles smiled at Lola.

“Hey... sounds like Daddy’s here now. Daddy’s here.” There was a crash and a sizzling sound, and Stiles worried that Derek would hurt himself by touching the barrier. There were voices, the sheriff’s voice, Laura’s voice, and then there was a crash. They were inside.

In a second, Derek’s face was over hers, eyes wide with fear. “Oh my god, Laura, we have to get her to the hospital! Shit, Stiles, Stiles can you hear me?” He was pulling her head into his lap, and Stiles cried out with the next contraction, the pain hitting her like a sack of bricks. Lola whined and cried, and Stiles rode the pain out, hanging limply in Derek’s arms when he tried to drag her into a more comfortable position. She could hear someone shouting about blood and Lola and labor, and all she really wanted was to lie there silently in Derek’s arms and just let it all end. Her face was warm, and she knew the warmth came from his big, beautiful hands, and Stiles felt like smiling.

“Der,” she mumbled, and Derek’s voice immediately quieted. Stiles knew he was paying attention. “Help me... Bo’s coming. Get him out.”

There was a swear; Stiles thought it might have been Laura. Derek was still looking down at her, his face crumpled. She thought that he would get wrinkles if he kept looking like that.

Laura pushed her legs up, which felt familiar, like when she had Lola. “Stiles, can you push? You have to push, alright? Derek, keep her conscious. John, take Lola.”

Derek grabbed her hand, squeezing it, and kissed her forehead. “Push, please, squeeze my hand and push.”

Stiles pushed.

There was arguing - she didn’t know, couldn’t make sense of it, but Derek was asking her something, begging, and Stiles was pretty sure she wasn’t going to live long enough to fulfil any promises made at that moment, but she grunted her consent and weakly tried to push. There was a new, sharp pain in her thigh, but what was a little more agony when everything from her teeth to her toenails ached. Derek spoke to her, absolutely shaking, and she could feel the tips of his claws on her skin, like he couldn’t help himself, and Laura was shouting at her to push, but she just couldn’t anymore. She tried, and Laura cried encouragements, and it was all a blur of noise and searing pain for what felt like an eternity to follow.

She just couldn’t anymore, and Stiles fell back against Derek, sobbing into his arm. He held her tightly, so tightly it almost hurt, but nothing like the pain below that felt like it was tearing her in half. “Stiles, please, you have to push, you’re almost there, please,” Derek was stuttering, his sentences broken with emotion.

Stiles forced her eyes open, looking up at him. “Promise... you’ll take care of them. Promise me.”

He snarled, forehead pressed against hers. She was probably really sweaty. Derek didn’t seem to mind. “Shut up,” he growled, hands scrambling over her neck and cheeks. “I need you. Don’t you dare talk like you’re going to... This isn’t a tragic movie, Stiles.”

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, stroking his arm. Laura talked her through another contraction, and it was almost too much of an effort for Stiles to blink. She’d only seen Derek in tears twice before. She hadn’t wanted to make him cry. It twisted something in her gut. Or maybe that was the baby. “R’member when you made me wait?” she asked, and Derek’s look of confusion was intensified by his protruding, shifted brow. “First time. You made everything special. Been special ever since.”

“Shut _up_ ,” he choked, holding her through another contraction. They were so close together. Stiles just hoped she could live long enough to get the baby out herself. Nobody should have to go through the trauma of ripping open her still-warm corpse to save the kid. That was just way too many levels of traumatic.

Laura was pressing up her calves again, making it easier for Stiles to push. “You’re so close, he’s almost out, okay? One good push.”

Stiles took up every last bit of strength she had, and pushed with all her might. The pain intensified like she wouldn’t believe, and she cried out, but then - but then it dulled ever so slightly, like an aching wound when the knife was yanked out, and there was the sound of a baby crying.

“You did it! Good girl, Stiles, look at your baby boy.” Laura held him up in her bloodied hands. The umbilical cord dangled from his belly, and he was covered in blood, but he was crying and tightening his small fists.

She smiled at him, her vision already going fuzzy around the edges. Stiles closed her eyes and rested against Derek, feeling him pull her even closer.

The scent of Stiles’ blood made Derek dizzy. There was a baby - his baby - just there in Laura’s arms, and Lola, his cub, was howling for her mother in a room apart with the anxiously pacing sheriff, and there was just so much blood. Derek’s brain almost shut down. His instincts to protect his mate, who wore the scent of death far too closely for Derek’s comfort, took over. He hunched over her, every strand of fur on his body standing on end. Laura had given her the bite, and Derek knew it never took immediately, and there was never a guarantee that it would take at _all_ , but he needed it to. He could never recover if it didn’t.

The blood of the omega had dried up to his elbows, but still Derek cradled her face with his bloody hands, nuzzling her hair, her mouth, her neck. She was still warm and breathing, her heart still beating, however weak. It was the only thing keeping him in control.

Tears were rolling freely down his face, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if Laura saw, he didn’t care if anyone saw, all he could focus on was Stiles’ irregular heartbeat, and how he couldn't allow it to stop.

Laura said something about taking the baby to be cleaned up, and he nodded without thinking. He could trust Laura, and the baby was fine; he needed to worry about Stiles right now. Stiles, who was still bleeding, and who had closed her eyes long minutes ago, laying heavily on him. Derek had his face in her neck, needing to smell her warm, sweaty skin and not her blood.

“You’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You-” He choked on his words, squeezing his eyes shut so that the tears wouldn’t cloud his vision.

Time passed. She didn’t wake up.

Derek moved to lay beside Stiles, pillowing her head on one of his arms as he methodically found every inch of her that would have been in pain, had she been awake, and he touched them. Dark black agony slithered up his veins as he sapped the pain from her body, kissing her brow every so often just to reassure himself that she was still warm.

The Sheriff came in and out of the room a few times, but Derek didn’t pay him much attention. Laura came in once, but left quickly when the baby started crying. Derek pushed Stiles’ sweaty bangs away from her forehead, and found it warm. It was almost as if she had a fever, or...

He looked to her bandaged arm, and took off the bloody gauze. Underneath was what was obviously a scratch mark that definitely hadn’t been there that morning, but it looked like it had been healing for days already. Derek gave a shaky exhale, burying his face in her hair. “Thank god.” The bite was taking, finally. He kissed Stiles’ face a dozen times before he moved to crouch and lifted her up, delicate though he knew he’d never have to be truly delicate with her again. Derek took her upstairs one slow step at a time, holding her like a child while Laura was quick to run the bathwater.

Derek had to drain it when her body was rubbed down and the water became an unsettling pink, but by the second time the bath was filled, the color had finally begun to rise back in her face. Derek washed her reverently, and dressed her when he was done. Laura and John waited patiently behind the door for Derek to tuck her dozing body into bed before they carried the two bundles of squirming cub to Derek. Lola instantly moved to scent Stiles’ neck, and Derek finally got a good look at his newborn son.

“Bo.” Derek ran a finger down his face. He was smaller than Lola was when she was born, but he was also three weeks premature. Derek sat down on the bed with him, and put the squirming baby down next to Stiles and Lola.

Stiles stirred, her eyes moving behind her eyelids, and finally they opened. She saw her daughter first, and then took in everyone else. Derek watched her closely, ready to hold her if she started panicking.

Lola was the first to break the silence. Derek knew she was reacting to the new scent of wolf on her mother - Derek was having trouble keeping calm, too, but Lola had either no control or no desire to control herself as she wiggled and curled herself close to her mother, letting out high croons of excitement. Stiles stroked her hair and she calmed, but only just. And then Stiles' eyes found the tiny bundle in Derek's arms, and her confusion softened. "Oh, my little battle. Look at you." Derek lay him in Stiles' free arm and ran his nose along her temple.

Bo let out a whine and fidgeted in her arm. Stiles looked up at Derek. "I think he's hungry, can you help me?"

Together they got her shirt up, and Bo was given a nipple. It took a while to get him to latch on but once he did, Stiles smiled tiredly down at him.

A throat cleared across the room and they looked up, almost surprised to remember the other two standing there. The sheriff's face was pale and his eyes were too bright, too wet. Lola wriggled under Stiles' arm when he moved closer, and John squeezed her calf. "Don't you ever do that to me again," he croaked. Stiles could remember only too well the same look on his face when her mother lay dying, and her eyes burned.

"Dad, hey. C'mon. It's... everything's gonna be okay."

'Tell that to the swimming pool of blood that was once your living room," Laura said, looking frazzled.

Stiles looked down at Bo and shrugged. She couldn't really regret anything that had happened, because she had both her babies in her arms, and Derek pressed against her leg, so it all worked out in the end. Then she glanced up at Laura. "It was lucky you were here to give me the bite at least." And then to her father, "And that you could break the mountain ash line. When I can, I'm gonna bake a huge cake to thank you guys."

"I almost watched you die," John grunted, sitting on the bed by her hip.

"Two cakes then?"

"Stiles."

She nudged him with her thigh. "Daddy, relax. Now... now nothing is gonna hurt us."

"What did that bastard want?" Laura asked, looking out the window. "Shit. Speaking of which, I'd better go move the body..."

The sheriff glanced at her as she hurried from the room and down the stairs. "By the look I got at his fatal injuries, I think I'd have to chalk his death up to a mountain lion attack."

Stiles groaned, leaning back in the pillows. "He wanted... he wanted Lola. Said he needed an alpha. He said that... I’d have another child..." She stopped talking, because it hurt to remember what the crazed wolf had said. Derek laid his arm over her stomach, kissing her chin.

Lola whined and reached out over Stiles' chest. Her little fingers were still tipped in claws, so Derek intercepted her before she could reach Bo's face. She looked up at him, surprised. "No, Lola."

"Mammmmmmma," she growled, but when Derek's eyes flashed blue, she hid her face in Stiles' shoulder.

"And what triggered the..." John swallowed. "The labor?"

Stiles shrugged, looking down at Bo's sleeping face. "He slammed me into the wall when I was trying to run away. Also stress can trigger it. Really bad timing either way."

Lola was yawning, being up way past her bedtime especially after such a stressful day, and Stiles was also feeling quite fatigued. The sheriff stood up. "I'll stay here tonight and help take care of the kids, so you can sleep through the night. Formula and diapers are still in the same place?"

"Dad, go have something to eat," Stiles said gently. "Make yourself at home. Let me just... I'm gonna hold them for a while, 'kay? It'd be great if you could take them... later."

He kissed her forehead hard and seemed to find it difficult to pull away.

Eventually he did, and closed the door behind him. Stiles looked over at Derek, who had Lola on his lap so that she was draped over both of them. She gave her husband a smile and leaned her whole body against his. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to go through that."

"Don't apologize," he hissed, shoving his face against her neck to kiss the soft skin there savagely. "You can't - no."

"No?"

"No."

Stiles sighed. Her fingers moved slowly through his hair and some unknown part of her was weirdly pleased that he was butting against her throat like an animal. "I know... I know what it's like to be left behind, Derek. I know what it would have done to you. I do. To Lola and the baby. That's why I'm sorry."

“Because of what you did, the three of you are alive, Stiles. You can’t apologize for that. Because of you I still have a family.” Derek nuzzled her desperately. He could already start to smell wolf on her, only a few hours after she was bitten. The injuries probably kick-started the process.

Bo made a huffing sound when he woke up from his short nap, and wiggled in Stiles’ arms. She gave a sigh but smiled nonetheless. “We have another newborn. We’d better take my dad up on his offer to take care of them tonight, or we won’t get any sleep.”

“Laura will stay, too,” Derek said, cupping the boy’s head and stroking the soft, dark downy hair. “We couldn’t keep her away if we tried, not after that.”

“Maybe they could take shifts,” Stiles laughed. She poked her baby’s tiny nose and his nearly invisible eyebrows. When Lola whined, Stiles reached out and stroked her cheek, nearly choking when she realized that Lola’s nuzzling around her palm and fingers was her attempt to cover the infant’s scent. “Lola,” she murmured, catching her daughter’s attention. “Tell Daddy how brave you were. You were so good, baby.” She licked her lips when the hot pressure of tears started to well up again, and she blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry you had to see that. You’re such a good girl.”

Lola whined at her distress.

Pretty soon both kids were crying, Lola less so than Bo, and within a few seconds Laura was at the door. “Is something wrong? Do you need help? Diaper change? What can I do?”

Stiles laughed, and Derek took Lola in his arms to try and calm her down while Stiles checked Bo’s diaper. “Nope, I think we’re fine, they probably just sensed the high emotion in here.”

“Well, here.” Laura handed over a sippy cup of warm milk for Lola and stepped back. “Once you’ve scented them, Stiles, call me in.”

“I want them to sleep in here tonight,” Stiles protested, but Laura held up a hand.

“I’ll just take them for an hour or so. Get them bathed and ready for bed. You should give Derek some time to cuddle.”

She sighed and looked over at Derek. “Yeah, I guess cuddling would be pretty difficult with two squirmy babies.” She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, and scratched behind his ears. He would never admit it, but Stiles knew he loved it.

Laura cleared her throat. “Right. Well, call me when I can take them.” And when the door closed, Stiles shifted until she rested more comfortably on her side. Bo looked up at her in the valley between her body and Derek’s.

“Okay. So.” She sighed. “You’re gonna have to teach me this werewolf stuff.”

“You’ve lived with it for sixteen years,” Derek pointed out. Stiles narrowed her eyes.

“But I’ve never done it before. Like, scenting. Do I just...” She stroked Bo’s cheeks and his neck and his ears.

He smiled at her and nodded, then brought Lola up to his face so they could scent each other. “Just do whatever feels natural. I’ve been scenting you for years, and Lola’s been doing it for the last year at least.”

“That’s different though, that just feels like cuddling!” She rubbed her nose on Bo’s belly, grinning as he brought his feet up and put them on her chin. “I’m surprised you’re alright with the name Bo. Thought you would have tried for something more normal and boring.”

“It was your dying wish,” he grumbled, allowing Lola to sprawl over his chest with her face tucked into his neck. “Or close enough. You were half out of your mind and nearly unconscious when you said his name. How long have you been deliberating on it?”

“All day,” she laughed quietly, kissing the baby’s forehead. “I wanted to acknowledge the little person trying to sail out of me on a river of blood... uh. Too soon?”

“Too soon,” Derek agreed, and leaned over to kiss Bo’s forehead when his face wrinkled up and then he smiled. “I think he has gas, here, let me burp him.” Derek put Lola beside her mother so he could pick Bo up. Stiles tried out the scenting thing on Lola, peppering her little neck and shoulders with kisses, and was rewarded with giggly peals of laughter. It wasn’t like all that much had changed yet; Stiles didn’t really feel any different. Well, okay, she wasn’t in writhing agony anymore like she had been a few hours earlier, and there was clearly _something_ different inside her. But this was just... normal. Snuggling with her daughter, cuddled in close in the big bed beside Derek.

After cuddling with Lola for a while, she started closing her eyes and curling up in her mother’s arms. Stiles laughed when the child’s head fell against her shoulder. “That’s what I feel like doing right now.” She looked over to Derek, and was rewarded with a picture that she hadn’t seen since Lola was that small. Derek was holding Bo as if he was a piece of glass, and so tenderly that he couldn’t be mistaken for anything but the baby’s father. He looked back over at her and then down at Lola.

“Let Laura take them for an hour,” he said, but she knew he was really asking for permission. She nodded, kissing the crown of Lola’s head as Derek called for his sister. She was at the door in a heartbeat, John following close behind.

“Bring them back without too much damage,” Stiles said when Lola’s limp body was pried from her arms. The child wasn’t asleep, but she looked more than content to be taken away by her alpha. John took Bo from Derek’s arms, and Stiles was struck suddenly by the thought that she could have easily missed her chance to see this - if they hadn’t come when they did, she would have never been able to see her father hold her son like that, and it made her throat close up just to picture it. What if _Bo_ hadn’t been saved?

Once they were out of the room, Stiles turned on her side and Derek was holding her in a heartbeat. She swallowed past a lump in her throat. After everything that had happened, she didn’t really want to be away from her babies. Derek seemed to feel the same, tightening his arms around her until Stiles’ face was pressed against his neck. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I think I fell in love with you when you were a barista at the cafe.”

“Oh?” Derek asked, holding her close.

“Yeah. With your little apron and everything. Can I tell you a secret? I kind of suspected you were jealous of Scott when you came back from college. And it kind of made me really happy.”

“What brought this on?” he muttered against her temple. “Because I’m still sort of reeling from your near death experience.”

“I think your sister’s right, Derek. I think Lola has the potential to become an alpha. You should have seen her today - the way she acted. The way the... the omega responded to her. She’s only a baby, Derek. But he still wanted her. He was desperate for her, because she’s... She kept trying to protect me. She can’t even _walk_ , not as well as she should, but she knew just what to do to calm me down.”

He nodded, hand trailing up and down Stiles’ back. “If it’s true, raising her will just get harder and harder. It’s possible that other wolves will notice, like this one.”

Stiles made a sound of agreement, and then looked up at him. “I guess you’ll just have to teach me to fight like a big bad werewolf then.” She grinned at him and he grinned back.

“Yeah. Guess I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you are so inclined, feel free to follow [Byacolate's Tumblr](http://byacolate.tumblr.com/) and [Tyger's Twitter](https://twitter.com/Whitetyger123).


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